Spy Zone

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Spy Zone Page 61

by Fritz Galt


  “The issue is sovereignty. We’re going to make a break for it.”

  He bolted upright in his seat. “What exactly do you mean by that?”

  “We’re going to ask for a seat at the UN and request territorial independence from the mainland.”

  “How?”

  “We’ve been counting. We believe that we have all the votes we need. This is our big chance.”

  “What votes?”

  “The UN General Affairs Committee must approve including our UN bid on the agenda of the General Assembly. Of the twenty-eight votes total, we’ve gained support from half of them. That leaves the U.S. as the deciding vote.”

  The smug little bastard. “You’ll never get our vote.”

  “It’s the deciding factor,” Chu said.

  Natalie glanced around Bronson’s office. During the course of the day, workmen had reassembled it into something of a war room.

  Within minutes, all heads of section had convened and Bronson had a pot of filtered water boiling on a gas burner.

  “Want to help me with this?” he asked, handing her a bottle of military-issue instant coffee.

  Since when did she make coffee for the office? But she took it as a gesture of goodwill on Bronson’s part.

  Suddenly the generator coughed. Lights flickered and dimmed.

  “Aw,” the officers let out a collective groan.

  Then the generator died altogether, plunging the room into darkness. All Natalie saw were silhouettes in the blue light of the burner.

  “Was that for dramatic effect?” Colonel Gabe Starr asked.

  “You don’t need to see my ugly puss to hear me,” Bronson said. Then he launched into a report on his conversation with Vincent Chu. “In short, Taiwan is asking for a seat at the UN.”

  The room let out a gasp.

  “And Chu expects the United States to cast the deciding vote in favor of Taiwan.”

  People erupted in anger.

  “That’s blackmail,” Bill shouted.

  Natalie turned to Steve. “What in the world is on their minds?”

  “They’ll succeed,” Larry Winters said with the calmest voice in the room. “They’re going to get their stinking recognition.”

  “Not only diplomatic recognition, they want territorial independence from the mainland,” Bronson said.

  “Talk about asking for it,” Gabe said. “Now the Chinese will invade for sure.”

  Why did everyone expect the United States to cast its vote in favor of Taiwan’s admission to the United Nations? Was Natalie missing something? “We can’t vote yes. We’d lose Beijing.”

  “The vote isn’t ours to make,” Bronson said with irritation. “It’s up to Washington. All we can do is advise them.”

  “Call them up and say no,” she said.

  “Look around you,” Bronson fired back. “This island is in ruins. Sympathy is growing. Certainly as a Security Council member, Beijing would veto Taiwan’s bid for membership. The tide is turning against Beijing. UN members might even oust them from the Security Council if they vote against Taiwan, or better yet, they might kick China out of the UN.”

  “Who makes you the expert on the UN?” she asked.

  “The General Assembly kicked Taiwan out in 1979. They could do the same to China now.”

  “Holy cow,” Gabe said.

  “No, holy Taiwan,” Bronson corrected.

  The room fell to a hush. Natalie couldn’t imagine a UN without China. Taiwan had clearly upset the apple cart.

  But she also couldn’t conceive of China exploding a nuclear weapon under Taiwan. Furthermore, the evidence didn’t seem to point that way. The ultimate test lay in who would snatch the money. Could Bronson accept the truth if it wasn’t China?

  “I guess it’s up to the money,” she concluded. “Are you willing to put your mouth where your money is?”

  “What do you mean by that?” Bronson spat out.

  “I mean this,” she said. “Can you really live with no American embassy in Beijing and no China in the UN?”

  “Like I have any choice,” he said.

  “But you do. We can call off the operation. Hide the evidence. Not worry about who was behind the earthquake.”

  Bill Fellows chimed in. “She’s right. The truth might hurt us now. If China is kicked out of the UN, we might have the biggest freeze in Sino-American relations ever, or how about a full-blown war on our hands?”

  Bronson was looking at Natalie directly. “You still can’t conceive of Beijing behind this, can you? You’re still running away from that possibility. I never thought I’d see the day you’d stoop so low just to cover up a misstatement you made. Do you hear what you’re suggesting? Do you want me to ignore whoever turns out to be the culprits? Manufacture an enemy?”

  “Not only that,” she said. “You could tamper with the evidence, remove General Li from the equation. Or, you could produce whatever culprit you decide upon. Pin the blame on whomever. The president needs a reason for whatever decision he makes. Give him something concrete to point to.”

  “Boy, you are a dirty, low-down scumbag,” Bill whispered.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  Bronson sat down heavily. “You think it’s up to us to decide the future of this region?”

  “It’s up to you,” she said.

  “What would you choose to prove?” Larry Winters asked.

  Bronson rolled his eyes. “Damned if I know. If it were my choice, Taiwan wouldn’t have embarked on this reckless course. But since they have, we have no choice but to reach a decision. Once again, it’s up to us. We can’t abstain, as that’s the same as voting no.”

  Natalie could almost hear the wheels turning in his head. Could he live with the fact that someone was nastier than the Communists? Or if they were at fault, was he prepared to completely undermine the delicate relations that the United States had built with China over the past twenty years?

  He sat quietly for some time, the officers holding their breath.

  Finally he looked up, his voice filled with resignation. “Once we get to the bottom of this and uncover exactly who caused this disaster and civil war, we’ll have our answer. I want no tampering, no fudging and no withholding of evidence.”

  He pushed the illumination button on his watch.

  “By midnight tonight, we’ll catch the crooks behind the Shanghai stock investment. They should turn up somewhere between China and Hong Kong. Depending on who they are, they may help us implicate China in the invasion scheme.”

  “Good for one vote to recognize Taiwan,” Larry Winters said.

  “Taiwan gets diplomatic recognition and China invades,” Gabe said. “Lord help us.”

  “On the other hand, if the evidence points in another direction…” Bronson said.

  “No recognition of Taiwan,” Larry summed up.

  “China comes to the rescue of Taiwan,” Gabe said. “We’ve got the People’s Liberation Army occupying the streets of Taipei.”

  Bronson’s silhouette was turned toward Natalie. “I’ll go along with whatever turns out to be the truth. And the truth will come out at midnight tonight in Hong Kong.”

  Then she heard a deep voice from the back of the room. “What’s happening in Hong Kong tonight?”

  Natalie turned around.

  A dark figure leaned against the doorframe, his broad shoulders and narrow waist defined by the flickering flames of the portable stove.

  “Mick!”

  Chapter 37

  President Charles Damon examined Park Bunker’s expression during his morning report. He looked like a kicked dog.

  The young secretary of defense had faced enemy fire in Vietnam and withstood the heat of press scrutiny as a member of the U.S. House of Representatives. But he wasn’t doing so well under Charles’ inquisition.

  “And why do the Chinese say our bombs killed over twenty civilians?”

  Park shifted in his seat across from the president’s desk. “Proba
bly because it’s true.”

  “I thought we were firing cruise missiles into a target area in international waters.”

  “We were, sir, but that’s not where they all landed.”

  “Where exactly did they land?”

  “Our target area was near Chinese territorial waters,” Park began cautiously. “Unfortunately, the Chinese must have feared that the missiles were armed, because they tried to intercept them. Result being that it screwed up the missiles’ inertial guidance systems. In short, some of them splashed into Chinese waters and one or two may have landed on actual Chinese soil.”

  “Were they armed?”

  “Fortunately, we checked that none was armed before we launched them. What landed in China would be the bodies of the missiles, but no explosives.”

  “Just dead missiles with American flags on them.” He closed his eyes and tried to keep his composure. “So what do we do now? I suppose this only made the Chinese madder at us and hasn’t deterred them from their original intentions. They’re probably salivating over the prospect of devouring Taiwan in the coming few days.”

  “We have recognizance photos and satellite images of their coastal exercise. They have assembled hundreds of vessels. It’s looking pretty serious.”

  “What other warning signals can we give?”

  “Not much from my department,” Park said. “Whatever our military does will only cause them to lash out at us and expedite their assault on Taiwan. That is, with one exception.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Full-scale intervention on our part.”

  “As in knocking China’s boats out of the water and storming Fujian Province?”

  “Something along those lines.”

  Had it come to that? He swiveled his chair and stared out the window at the darkened grounds of the South Lawn. Summer haze couldn’t obscure his view of the lighted Washington Monument.

  The precarious state of nations in East Asia seemed as fragile as the day America was founded two hundred years before. Fostering nationhood never got easy.

  He was having another of his conversations with George Washington.

  Were the problems of running a democracy less complex back in the early days of the republic? Had America now fallen victim to the idealistic zeal of the framers of the Constitution? Perhaps a stronger presidency would save America from the sharks.

  The lighted edifice didn’t budge an inch or change a single shade of color. Perhaps in times of conflict, countries didn’t need stronger leaders. They needed stronger democracy. He could certainly use the help.

  He turned back to his young secretary of defense. Having served on the Mekong, Park Bunker would be familiar with the problems of East Asia.

  “What exactly are China’s chances?” he finally asked. “How well can Taiwan defend itself?”

  “China is limited by lift capability. They can transport men, but not ammunition and machines. At most, they could take a few coastal cities. Taiwan can retreat behind her mountains and effectively defend herself for years.”

  “Yes, but taking a bite out of Taiwan would destabilize the island,” he countered. “Taiwan would lose all their business with China. Their economy would slide into oblivion. It would absolutely destroy them.”

  Park looked thoughtful. “So how do we stop this?”

  Charles smiled inwardly. Finally, someone was helping him with the decision-making. Park was no longer working for him. He was working with him.

  “China will take this up at the UN Security Council, putting us on the defensive,” he answered. “What other retaliation could they take against us?”

  “Are you worried about another Pearl Harbor?”

  “Not worried, but we should put our bases on full alert.”

  “I have.”

  Just then the phone rang. Damn it. His secretary was supposed to hold all calls.

  “Who is it?” he growled into the speaker.

  “Zenia, sir,” his secretary said. “It’s urgent.”

  “Put her through.”

  “Mr. President,” Zenia said in an exasperated tone. “Taiwan’s making a break for it. The UN General Assembly is meeting in special session this afternoon. The UN General Affairs Committee will vote on allowing Taiwan’s bid for membership. We have the final say in that vote. If we approve the bid, it’ll go to the floor of the General Assembly and things going the way they are, Taiwan will have a seat by the end of the day.”

  “China will veto it. They’re on the Security Council.”

  “The floor can vote China out of the Security Council. That’s how the UN got rid of Taiwan in ’79.”

  “So you’re saying China may get kicked out of the UN entirely?”

  “Within hours.”

  “And we’re busy lobbing missiles into their streets?”

  “We can’t approve Taiwan’s membership, sir.”

  “What are the consequences of that?”

  “China invades.”

  “Stupendous. Let me mull it over for a few minutes. I’ll see you at our pow-wow here in two hours. We’ll decide on a course of action at that time.”

  “There’s one more thing.”

  “What?”

  “We’ve got a large embassy in Beijing and consulates scattered throughout China.”

  “What could happen to them?”

  “They might get a little flak.”

  An angry mob had already painted huge Chinese characters on the wall across the street from the consul general’s quarters where Eli and Stephanie waited. There were no policemen in sight as workers and students gathered around the perimeter wall of the U.S. Consulate General in Shanghai.

  “Who is whipping these people up?” Eli wondered aloud.

  “It’s well orchestrated,” Stephanie said. “Someone has bused in students. It’s got to be officially sanctioned.”

  One young woman hurled a brick from the street. It landed with a thud on the pavement inside the parking lot.

  The green-uniformed Chinese guards had long since abandoned their posts.

  The weakest point from a security perspective was the front gate, where consulate-employed guards huddled inside their shack. The gate was tightly sealed, and a metal blockade protected the compound from unauthorized vehicles.

  Then Eli heard a knock on the door.

  Pete Cavanaugh entered, along with an American security technician carrying the metal briefcase.

  “That’s our baby,” Eli said. “I thought someone stole it from the consulate.”

  “No such thing,” Stephanie said. “We just had a combination lock installed.”

  Eli closed his eyes briefly with relief. “What’s the combination?”

  “We can’t tell you,” the technician said, setting the briefcase on the table for him. “It’s for your safety.”

  “My safety? No lock at all would be safer for me.”

  “I’ve relayed the combination by coded cable to Taipei,” the man said. “Nobody can unseal the case until it reaches Taipei.”

  Pete Cavanaugh nodded with satisfaction, and led the man away.

  Eli glanced in the full-length mirror. Stephanie had begun to comb back her wavy hair.

  “You don’t seem too concerned,” he said.

  “I’m not.”

  He didn’t understand. They were about to embark on a risky mission to deliver the incriminating documents and access codes out of the country. Since there were no direct flights to Taipei from the mainland, they’d have the extra complication of connecting through Hong Kong.

  She reached into her bra and pulled out two folded sheets of paper. “I kept the disbursement record and authorization.”

  Then she opened her black leather shoulder bag and showed him twenty pages of transactions to the twenty accounts, along with General Li’s accompanying letter.

  She patted the briefcase. “You’ll take the access codes.”

  She refolded the two pages and tried to stuff them back into her bra.
“You don’t mind if I’m up front about this?” she said in a husky voice.

  He watched her struggle with the paper.

  She nodded at the briefcase in his hand. “Are you sure that money ain’t hot?” she continued in her cathouse drawl.

  “Yeah, I just hijacked the embassy payroll.”

  The papers finally disappeared under her pale blue blouse.

  “Mister, do all you little diplomats peek into women’s dressing rooms?”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah, if we share the same room.”

  “What kind of joint do you run around here anyways?”

  Her hands weighed the bounce in her breasts just as a rock broke through a nearby window.

  An ecstatic roar rose from the crowd below.

  An official Oldsmobile pulled up the Shanghai consulate’s circular drive shortly before 5:00 p.m.

  “What, no joyride?” Eli asked, winking at Stephanie.

  Looking at her rain-splattered motorcycle resting under a tree, she sighed. “Not this time, Sweetie.”

  Eli hesitated atop the front steps.

  Rocks rained down on part of the circular drive and shattered windows across the back of the consulate. Cold rain didn’t dissipate the crowd.

  Under an umbrella, as much for protection from flying debris as from the rain, Pete Cavanaugh opened the car door for them.

  Stephanie swung her black bag over her shoulder and ventured out first. She strutted down the steps under her yellow umbrella with spike heels and a reassuring smile.

  Pete stuffed her into the car and ordered the driver to throw the luggage into the trunk.

  Carrying three hundred million dollars worth of access codes was too much responsibility for one human being. Eli felt like he was holding the entire Federal Reserve. So he used it as a shield.

  He held the briefcase over his head and ran down the steps to the car.

  Several bottles shattered at his feet.

  “Are you coming with us?” he called to Pete.

  The consul swept the glass away with his foot. “I’m going down with the ship.”

  “Hongqiao Airport,” Stephanie said. “Dragon Air to Hong Kong.”

 

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