by Clancy, Tom
Not everyone is a professional small-talker, Hood reminded himself.
Anita apparently stayed in the two worlds where she felt comfortable: ivory-tower politics and academia. If anyone wanted to be with her, it had to be within those two disciplines. There was something to be said for that. Although it made her a poor spy, as she had demonstrated, it would be very difficult for anyone to take her by surprise, intellectually or emotionally.
The secure cell phone was set on Silent, so the light flashed without ringing. Hood reached over and picked it up. It was Bob Herbert.
“Hope I didn’t wake you,” Herbert said.
“No. What’s up?”
“An unusual Chinese military buildup in response to a traditional Taiwanese military exercise,” Herbert said. “Have you heard anything about that?”
“No.”
“Is there anyone you have met who might know about it?” Herbert asked.
“I can ask the prime minister later, with the caveat that it probably won’t do any good,” Hood said. “If he does know anything, he might not be inclined to share the information with me. Have you talked to Mike?”
“Not yet,” Herbert said. “I’m frankly at a loss here.”
“You sound like it.”
“Is it that bad?”
“You sound winded.”
“Maybe. I feel like I’m sitting on the sidelines, though I don’t know if I’m catching my breath or scratching my butt,” Herbert admitted.
“It’s that dry out there?”
“Arid,” Herbert said. “You know how Chinese politics are. No one says anything to anybody.”
“Yes. I experienced that firsthand,” Hood admitted.
“All we see are the shadow results of conflicts, the explosions in Charleston and South Africa. Our associates in D.C. and Interpol have no more information than we do about what is behind this or what might be next. Sergei Orlov had some background on the key players. Chou Shin was considered a moderate because he was trying to reconcile the ‘brother’ Communists of China and the Soviet Union. When the S.U. fell, he turned on Moscow with a series of pretty riled-up speeches.”
“The spurned lover,” Hood said.
“Yeah. Communism is a religion to him, and he will die for it,” Herbert said. “According to Orlov, the other nutcase—General Tam Li—is not a martyr. But he is an aggressive bastard who will risk his life or the lives of others to increase his power base. All of which tells us what we already know: these guys are dangerous. We need to try to find out if the Chinese action is related to the Taiwanese drill, the rocket launch, or something else.”
Herbert’s frustration came through the phone. It sucked hope from the room, from Hood.
“There is not much we can do about the armies,” Hood said. “We should concentrate on the rocket.”
“I figured Mike would be all over that with his marines,” Herbert said. “I got General Carrie to lend them to him.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“He’s not in command, but they’ll listen to him.”
“Of course.” Hood felt marginalized. But the generalto-general sympatics was inevitable.
“What about you?” Herbert asked.
“I did not get anywhere with the prime minister or his daughter, and I’m frankly at a loss what to do next.”
“Hence being awake at a few minutes after five in the morning.”
“Exactly,” Hood replied.
“What was the daughter like?” Herbert asked. “Businesslike and severe?”
“Businesslike yes, but very feminine.”
“Is there something there you can work?”
“I don’t think so,” Hood said. “Her father comes first. Everyone else comes a very distant second. I’m stumped, Bob.”
“Didn’t this sort of thing play out differently once upon a time?” Herbert asked plaintively.
“You mean, ‘Remember when we used to win these things?’ ” Hood asked.
“Well, I’m not willing to write this one off—”
“Nor am I,” Hood assured him. “But we did seem to have more control hunkered in the Tank with Striker in the field.”
“That was the hub. Now we’re in the fringes.”
“Not by choice,” Hood pointed out. “We’ve been pushed out by younger or more aggressive individuals with stronger beliefs. Or if not stronger, they put more muscle behind what they do believe.”
“Christ, Paul. You sound like an old soldier.”
“Bob, I am—we are,” Hood insisted. “We have been marginalized by people of passion, by people who want to build a career or an army or an ideology, or else destroy one.”
“I never thought I would hear you call me a moderate,” Herbert joked.
“You are devoted to your people,” Hood said. “Loudly, fiercely, but completely. That keeps you from watching your own ass, from elbowing your way to the front of the line.”
“I like where I am. And I do not see anything wrong with being one of the guys who holds it all together from the middle.”
“Which is exactly what I’m talking about,” Hood replied. “No one is a centrist anymore.” Hood was starting to get annoyed. Not with the vague, imagined usurpers but with himself. There was resignation in his voice, and he did not like that. “Look, I’ve got to get ready to go. The government car will be here soon.”
“And I have to take another walk around the intel we have collected,” Herbert said. “Have you thought about your own safety at the launch?”
“Not really. We’ll be in a bunker—”
“The concrete will protect you from an explosion, not from radiation,” Herbert cautioned.
“I guess we will just have to make sure that nothing happens,” Hood said.
“That’s a goal, not a plan,” Herbert said.
“I know.”
Hood’s conversation with Bob Herbert was different, too. There was a time when the men would have been discussing very specific options about evolving situations. Ideas would be on the table, intelligence would be in the data stream, and answers would emerge. Instead, they sat here complaining, like old men on a park bench reminiscing about the good old days.
Hood did not like that, either. He had always prided himself on being a professional. And for him, by definition, that was someone who did his best, even when he did not feel like it. Maybe it was post-traumatic shock about being plucked from Op-Center, but he was not doing his best. He and Herbert were like mice in a maze, moving along a route they did not know to a goal they could not see.
That had to change.
Now.
“Bob, we need to take another walk around this situation. There has to be something we’ve missed.”
“Such as? We’ve gone over the launch site, the schedule—”
“There must be something in the individuals, their personalities, their past actions that we can use.”
“Sure,” Herbert said. “Say, are you okay?”
“Why?”
“A minute ago you sounded down,” Herbert said. “Now you sound like you’re speeding.”
“It’s a new day and an important one,” Hood explained, rising. He had not intended that to be metaphorical, but it was both literally and figuratively true. “You’re right. We don’t have a plan, and we need one, something better than planting my ass in a concrete bunker and waiting for something to happen.”
Herbert was silent for a moment. “How about this,” he said. “Don’t go to the bunker. Ask to go somewhere else.”
“Where? A representative of the president of the United States will not be given an all-access pass.”
“Will Le’s daughter be there?” Herbert asked.
“Yes.”
“What if you could convince her that the prime minister is in danger?” Herbert asked.
“And use that how?”
“I am isolating potential targets at the launch site for Mike’s team,” Herbert said. “Maybe you can have a look at th
em as well. Between you and the marines, we can cover more territory.”
“I think Le and his daughter might go for that,” Hood said. “I’ll talk to them when I get there.”
“I like it,” Herbert said. “I’ll send the likeliest sites to your laptop. If you check it en route to the facility, I can talk to Mike about dividing the duties.”
“Absolutely,” Hood told him. “If I have any questions, I’ll give you a shout.”
“I’ll be here,” Herbert assured him. Now the intelligence chief sounded energized as well.
Hood hung up and took a quick shower. The water invigorated his body the way the ideas had invigorated his mind. Both contributed to the much-needed renewal of Hood’s spirit.
At least one thing had not changed over the years: Hood’s capacity to bootstrap himself and those around him. What the old Op-Center team may have lacked in zealousness they made up for in endurance and dedication.
That was not nothing.
At the moment, it could be everything.
FORTY-FIVE
Zhuhai, China Thursday, 7:18 A.M.
Tam Li was dozing at his desk when the intercom came on. He did not start at the sound, because he never slept very deeply. It was a habit soldiers acquired if they wanted to survive. He picked up the phone.
“Go ahead.”
“General, an aircraft is approaching from Beijing,” the orderly reported. “It is carrying Chou Shin of the Guoanbu.”
“How do you know?”
“We advised the pilot that the base is in a lockdown situation because of the maneuvers off Taipei,” the orderly replied. “The pilot insisted that command did not apply to his passenger.”
That was not good. Not at all. “Are they landing?” the general asked.
“They said they will, with or without assistance from the tower,” the orderly informed him.
“Bring them down,” the general said. “Send two security units to meet the aircraft and take them all into custody.”
“Arrest the Guoanbu director?” the orderly asked.
“And everyone with him.”
“Yes, sir,” the orderly said. “The security detachment leader will need to know the charge.”
“Murder,” Tam Li said without hesitation.
“Sir?”
“Chou Shin has committed homicidal acts of terrorism abroad.”
“Yes, sir,” the orderly said. “If there is resistance?”
“Tell the detachment leader to resist back!” the general shouted. He slammed the receiver into the cradle and looked at his watch. He did not need to prove the charges or even make them survive the morning. All he needed was for Chou Shin and the leadership at the launch site to be out of the way for the next few hours. After that, there would be a military crisis that only military leaders could solve.
The general was now completely awake. His olive green jacket was draped on the back of the chair. He got up and put it on. He tugged the hem to remove the wrinkles. He tugged it hard.
The bastard provocateur, he thought angrily. Chou Shin may have thought to confront the general and bully him into aborting his plan. That would not happen. In fact, Chou Shin would not set eyes on Tam Li until a frightened nation had surrendered its will to the military. Not only would a general become the effective leader of one billion Chinese, but Chou’s antiquated Communist ideology would be buried at last and for all time. In a way, his arrival here was timely. Tam Li had planned to tell the prime minister that he was remaining in Zhuhai to watch the Taiwanese deployment in the strait, claiming it was more significant than usual. Now he could add to that the curious arrival of Director Chou, who was also supposed to be at the launch. The general would tell the prime minister that he was analyzing the data with the help of the Guoanbu.
Tam Li left the room with long, bold strides and entered a corridor that connected his office with the rest of the officers’ compound. The morning light was coming over the strait in strong yellow splashes. The pale green carpet of the hallway looked like solid amber. The general did not notice the salutes of his command as he passed. His eyes were on an office ahead, the headquarters of the strategic planning officer, Colonel Hark. He entered without knocking. The tall, lean Hark was standing at an electronic table with four other officers. The men all turned and saluted smartly as the general entered. He returned the salute perfunctorily and stood beside the table. A map of the region was being projected from below. Electronic blips on top showed the position of every commercial plane and ship in the area.
“What is our status?” Tam Li demanded.
“The forward aerial strike force is thirty-five percent deployed,” the colonel replied. “The naval task force is nearly twenty-five percent deployed. Everything is precisely on schedule.”
“I want our forces boosted to fifty percent—full deployment within the hour,” Tam Li ordered.
Hark regarded the general with open surprise. The other officers remained at attention.
“General, the Americans will see it on satellite,” Hark pointed out. “They will suspect we are sending out more than a routine patrol.”
“Thank you, Colonel. That had occurred to me.”
“Sir, with respect, we all agreed that the main deployment should coincide with the situation at the launch—”
“Circumstances have changed significantly,” Tam Li told him. “I want us to be seen.”
There was a short silence. “May I ask why, sir?”
“Chou Shin is on the way to the base. I am going to have him detained. If he suspects what we are doing, he will try to stop us. We need to maneuver events to a point where they cannot be stopped.”
“Even if we are perceived as an aggressor?”
“Taiwan military vessels are in the water, and their warplanes in the skies,” the general replied. “All of them are headed toward our shores. We need no other justification to field a defense force.”
“Perhaps, sir. But we have never responded before in this situation. The attack on the rocket and Taiwan’s opportunistic deployment was going to justify our own sudden and confrontational move—”
“Colonel, what is Directive Two forty-one?”
“ ‘Taiwan is an integral part of China,’ ” the colonel replied.
“Directive Two forty-two?”
“ ‘It is an inviolable mission of the entire Chinese people to reunify the motherland,’ ” recited Hark.
“And Directive Two forty-six?”
“ ‘The sooner we settle the question of Taiwan, the better it is,’ ” the colonel declared.
“You understand the goal. With that in mind, what command would you issue if our ports and airfields were about to come under attack?” the general asked.
“I would simultaneously move and deploy our equipment, sir.”
“Just so,” Tam Li said. “We are under attack from ideological enemies at home. They may seek to confiscate our assets while they are in one place. We cannot allow that. Get our forces off the ground and out of the docks as soon as possible. They will not engage Taiwan. Not yet. Nothing else has changed. The rocket will be destroyed as planned. Our ships and planes will simply be closer to the enemy than we had planned. In a way, this helps us.”
“How so?”
“Instead of hunting him down later, we will have already arrested the man who was responsible for the destruction of the rocket,” Tam Li told him. “There is one thing more I want.”
“Sir?”
“Have the white unit meet me in Hangar Three,” he said.
FORTY-SIX
Zhuhai, China Thursday, 8:02 A.M.
The standard Boeing 737-800 landed gently on the long military runway. The pilot reversed the engines and turned toward the terminal complex, a series of low-lying gray buildings at the hub of four radial airstrips. A number of aircraft were moving from hangars toward the different jet ways. There was no question about where to go: General Tam Li had dispatched an honor guard.
Chou Shin was
not surprised. It had been necessary for them to circle the field before they were given clearance to land. Obviously, the general was doing something here he did not want others to know about. Chou had used his wireless laptop to track the general’s actions as best as he could during the flight. According to on-site and satellite data collected by the Guoanbu, Taiwan had continued its limited deployment while Tam Li had accelerated his. That would have to be stopped, and quickly. The only way to do that was for Chou to witness the commander’s activities firsthand and report them to the prime minister.
The intelligence director went to the front of the plane as it neared the building. The pilot did not so much finish taxiing as stop. There was no staircase or tunnel by which to exit.
Chou Shin waited until the engines had stopped. “Open the door,” the director told his aide.
The young man bowed slightly, then turned and unlocked the cabin door. Chou stood in the oily heat of the open hatch.
“Who is in command here?” the director asked. He spoke softly to show that he was unconcerned and to make them come to him.
A lieutenant stepped up smartly. “I am in charge of these units.”
“Have them bring us a stairwell,” Chou said.
“Our orders are that you shall remain on the aircraft.”
“Orders from whom?”
“The Security Detachment Office,” the lieutenant replied. “The base is under a condition red alert. Your plane should not even have been permitted to land.”
“Why was it, then?”
“The base commander has override authority,” the lieutenant informed him.
“Your orders are treasonous,” Chou informed him. “We will deploy the emergency exit equipment if we must, but I will leave this aircraft, and I will see base commander General Tam Li.”
“Condition red dictates that we stop any member of your party who attempts to leave the aircraft.”
“You would shoot the director of the Guoanbu?” Chou demanded.
“We would detain you by any means necessary.”
Chou turned to the cockpit. The door was open. The pilots were still going through their postflight checklist. “Get me the minister of defense in Beijing,” he said.
