by John Ringo
Vanner snorted. “We haven’t even come within ten miles of any territories’ nautical border since leaving Hong Kong.”
“Good. Oh, and be sure to keep the Asian prostitutes below deck and quiet, will you?” Mike signed off, but overheard part of Vanner’s comment to himself.
“Never thought I’d ever hear that kind of order . . .”
* * *
“Lieutenant, this is truly an unexpected surprise,” Mike said as he climbed aboard the Big Fish’s stern. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were keeping tabs on us.”
Fang Gui turned from where he was watching the far-off landscape of Myanmar. He looked just as rumpled as when Mike had first met him, only his suit was a different shade of tan. The two Special Police Unit men with him remained on their boat, but stayed close enough to lend assistance if needed. “The U.S. is not the only one with satellites, Mr. Jenkins. How have you been enjoying your cruise through our waters?”
Waving the police officer to a chair at the table, Mike pulled out another one and sat down. “Considering we’re at least five days from Hong Kong, I hardly think these qualify as ‘your’ waters.”
“Of course.” Fang smiled. “I merely meant to ask if you are enjoying your time in the South Pacific? You’ve certainly been busy over the past couple of days since your unexpected departure from our city.”
Mike waved a hand at the azure ocean and far-off land mass on the horizon. “Well, there’s so much to see out here, I want to make the most of our time in the area.”
“Naturally.” Fang nodded. “I’m not here about what happened at the shipping dock, in case you are wondering. You accomplished what needed to be done, and in a most spectacular fashion.”
“About that, I sincerely hope that none of your men were injured too badly.”
“I expect I should be happy that you didn’t kill any of them. One has a ruptured eardrum, and another is recovering from a minor concussion, but other than a lot of bumps and bruises, everyone is all right.”
“Good. I told my men to incapacitate as harmlessly as possible, but often the best approach is still fairly brutal.”
“That is one way of putting it. There is one loose end regarding that incident. I suppose you have no idea whatsoever about Mr. Than’s current whereabouts?”
“He left us more than a day ago.”
That part, at least, was true. Once Than had made his delivery, he had wished Mike the best of luck. He also said if Mike ever needed anything in this area of the world, to get in touch with him through Chal. Mike said he would do that, and extended an offer to drop by if the fixer ever found himself east of the Black Sea. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Technically I am on duty, but I don’t expect anyone to be asking too many questions about what I did when meeting with a confidential informant. A beer would be great.”
“Got just the thing.” Mike held up two fingers and nodded at Daria, who went below. “So, I’m your CI now? If your visit really is official business, why don’t you tell me what I could have possibly done to bring you all the way out here.”
“Like I said, Mr. Jenkins, you have been very busy. Everywhere you go, things happen. Your yacht was spotted in the vicinity of Phuket Island off Thailand thirty-six hours ago. Less than twenty-four hours later, the known headquarters of a local gang was destroyed in what the local police described as a ‘military-style assault,’ leaving no one alive. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
“Phuket is a lovely island. Great beaches, and the nightlife cannot be beat. Ah, here’s our beers.” One of the girls had returned with a bucket filled with bottles of Mountain Tiger on ice. Mike grabbed one, opened it, and clinked the neck against the lieutenant’s. “Cheers.”
“We typically say ‘suíyì,’ which means each person can drink how they like. If I wanted you to drain the entire bottle, I would say ‘gānbēi!’ However, my favorite is wàn shòu wú jiāng—to longevity and health.” The policeman sipped, then drank deeper, his eyes widening. “What heavenly brew is this?”
“Glad you like it. It’s from my neck of the woods, brewed in the valley of the Keldara.”
“It is truly unlike anything I have ever tasted.” Like most people who drank Mountain Tiger for the first time, Fang had a hard time setting the bottle down.
“We hear that a lot. So, you were about to tell me the real reason you are here in person?” Mike asked.
“Of course. How is your follow-up of the computer boards going?”
“It’s progressing. I suppose you are aware of a General Zháo Cong in the Chinese Army?”
“Oh, yes, very much so. Are you saying he’s involved?”
“I watched Than hand the case to him in his luxury hotel suite yesterday. I think that counts as involved.”
“Ah, that would explain this footage we took of you meeting him earlier today.” Fang slid his smartphone over to Mike, who watched as the boxes of weapons were unloaded on the beach where he had just been less than an hour ago.
“You guys sure like keeping tabs on me and mine.” Mike’s jaw worked. “There may come a time in the future when I am not very fond of that.”
Fang spread his hands. “What can I say? Wherever you go, Mr. Jenkins, it seems that you also happen to do a lot of our work for us. That shipment of weapons was under surveillance the moment it arrived in Bangkok. The customs official who was ‘persuaded’ by an unknown group of masked and black-clad men to release it has been arrested and is being interrogated by the local police. We’ve been keeping an eye on it ever since that same party liberated it from customs. It is fortunate that I had instructed the customs security to let that particular shipment go, but to notify us when anyone inquired about it or moved it. When I received word that you had taken it, I was unsurprised.”
While the lieutenant was talking, Mike was sipping his beer to quell the turmoil in his stomach at realizing how close Jace and his team had come to possibly getting arrested by the customs police. His expression, however, was a study in nonchalance. “And all of that concerns me how?”
“Well, you are still working with General Cong, correct?”
“You would just bring out something to prove I was lying if I said no, wouldn’t you?” Mike asked.
“You could try it and see.” Fang smiled before draining his bottle.
“Have another.” Mike finished his and opened another bottle while filling Fang in on their rest of their assignment for Cong. “Either he has got a big buyer, perhaps a local group up there who has cash and a desire to commit suicide against the army, or someone in country’s planning to do something that involves a lot of bullets in the near future.”
“Quite. A man like Cong is the worst example of a rank opportunist, exploiting his position and the trust of his nation to line his own pockets. It sullies the reputation of the entire People’s Army.”
“Yes, but I suppose the torture that your police and prison guards inflict on suspected dissidents and minorities, particularly the practitioners of Falun Gong, is fine for China’s international reputation. But I guess truthfulness, compassion, and forbearance don’t have a place in twenty-first-century China, do they?” Mike kept his gaze and jaw still as he watched Fang. He didn’t really care what the Chinese did to their people in their prisons; he was more interested in seeing how the police officer would react.
The lieutenant stiffened and set his bottle down on the table with a clink. “They are opposed to the Communist Party of China and the central government, and spread sedition by preaching idealism, theism, and feudal superstition. The so-called ‘truth, kindness and forbearance’ principle preached by Li has nothing in common with the socialist ethical and cultural progress we are striving to achieve.”
“So, you are a good little Communist. That’s a pretty good sound bite you’ve memorized, by the way. Straight out of the Xinhua News Agency.” Mike leaned back in his chair. “Cong was in charge of a large military prison outside
of Beijing. I only bring this up as it would seem to be a sufficient reason as to why he was transferred to his current position.”
“I have no knowledge of whether that was a factor or not.” Fang’s mouth said “no” while his eyes said “yes.” “Bringing this conversation back to the matter at hand, we would like you to follow up with Cong and find out exactly what he is up to.”
“You have got to be kidding me. Surely you’ve been able to get a man inside his operation?”
“The last one died ten months ago. It was handled so skillfully that even we are not sure whether the man’s death was accidental or on purpose. Lately Cong has grown more paranoid about who works with him. You must have impressed him greatly. I cannot remember the last time, if ever, that he worked with foreigners.”
“On the other hand, if he doesn’t trust other Chinese, which, judging by whom I’m talking to right now, might be a wise idea for him, he would look outside the box to someone like us,” Mike replied. “That means that he might just see me and my men as disposable gwai-lo labor. In which case we go into the jungle and never come out again.”
“There is that, although I doubt that there are many situations that pose that sort of problem to you.”
“I have not run into one yet, but there is always a first time,” Mike said. “However, that does bring up the question of once Cong has delivered this large shipment of weapons, what am I supposed to do with him? It seems that the simplest solution would be the application of three cents worth of lead accelerated to the appropriate velocity.”
“Although you and your fellow American cowboys may prefer that sort of vigilante justice, we must have the general taken alive. He must stand trial and serve as an example to others in the military and the country that this sort of behavior will not be tolerated.”
“And China certainly wouldn’t want to be seen as a country that simply ‘disappears’ its problems, would it?” Mike asked.
Fang didn’t blink at that. “We are trying to change certain aspects of how we are viewed by the rest of the world, yes. You may be called to testify on what you saw.”
Mike shook his head. “I’m not really big on that sort of thing. How about if I provided you with video corroborating what went down?”
“Would you be willing to sign a statement attesting to what you saw as well?”
“I’ll have to think about that. I’m not that up on international law. Hell, would that even carry any weight in your court system?”
“It would at his court-martial.”
“Again, I’ll have to get back to you on that.”
“And once again, it would seem that our fates are intertwined, if I may use a staple of Chinese folklore. This time I cannot make you do as I wish—”
“As I recall, Fang, you didn’t the last time we met either. Our goals happened to be mutually aligned, that’s all,” Mike replied.
“So, I can only ask. Will you do this for me and my country?” Fang asked.
“Throwing in China is a bit much, but I’ll give you the same answer I gave back in Hong Kong. I’ll see what I can do.”
“What more can I ask for?” The lieutenant stood up. “Thank you for the beer.”
“If things go well, we may have an Asian distributor who could roll it out in your neck of the world sometime in the next year. That way you won’t have to hunt me down the next time you’d like some.”
“I will keep that in mind. Hopefully I will have the chance to repay your generosity the next time you’re in Hong Kong,” Fang said.
“We’ll see.” Mike saw the lieutenant down to his boat and watched him sail off until the boat was just a speck on the horizon.
Vanner came on deck to join him. “Everything go all right with the Asian fuzz?”
“As good as expected, although one of the girls will need to review how witness testimony works in China, particularly in regards to court-martials.”
“How’s that again?” Vanner asked.
Mike detailed his conversation with the police lieutenant. “Too goddamn many eyeballs on us every step of the way. Not to mention Fang popping up in the oddest places.”
“Yeah, like way the hell out here,” Vanner said. “We’re not exactly anywhere near his jurisdiction.”
“Exactly. He’s the riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma that Churchill spoke of. Something’s definitely not quite right about that guy, but I’ll be damned if I can figure out what,” Mike said.
“So, we’re still dancing to the tunes of two masters?” Vanner asked.
“For the time being. I expect that to change once we dump Cong, however.” Mike turned to head below. “One more thing. About ten miles east of us is the general’s yacht.”
“Yeah, it’s hard to miss on radar.”
“Good. I want you to have the captain shadow it. If it moves, stick with it. Try not to be obvious about it, of course.”
“Keep your distance, but don’t look like you’re trying to keep your distance. Should I order the captain to sail casual?” Vanner asked with a smile.
“Something like that.”
* * *
When the patrol boat was a good ten miles away, Fang Gui went below to report in. Setting a pair of headphones on his head, he called in on a scrambled satellite feed, but not back to the Hong Kong Police Headquarters. Instead, he contacted his own handler at the Third Bureau in the MSS in Beijing.
The conversation was short. “I have just met with the American again.”
“And?”
“I believe he will continue to follow our target’s trail.”
“He told you this directly?”
Fang stifled a sigh. “He can be . . . obtuse in these matters. As before, he did not come right out and confirm exactly what he was going to do.”
“However, he did accomplish what you had asked, even if he made the Hong Kong police look foolish in the bargain.”
“Yes. If he is also answering to the U.S. government as we surmise, then I see no reason that he would suspend his investigation now.”
“And afterward?”
“Given the instructions I received about this man back in Hong Kong, no matter what happens with the general, unless this Jenkins is killed during the operation, we will be forced to let him go while holding sensitive information about one of our high-ranking military officials.” Fang chose his next words carefully. “However, from what I understand, that is the least of the information he seems to possess about our country.”
There was a long pause before his handler answered. “Unfortunately, you are more correct than you know, and that is how this matter shall remain. Remain in the area pending the conclusion of the operation.”
“Yes sir. One question, if I may.”
“Go ahead.”
“Is the operative from Second still on site?” In a rare display of cross-Bureau cooperation, the Second and Third Departments were working together on this case. Although he was unable to confirm it, Gui was sure that the Chinese woman who had been apprehended with Jenkins and his group was the mole. After all, she was the only Chinese woman with them, which made the supposition easy.
“Yes, she is. Why? Has she contacted you directly?”
“No, I was just wondering if there were any new directives regarding her. For example, I was never informed about her status on this assignment.” Fang was politely asking who was supposed to be in charge of this investigation, her or him.
“There has been nothing new that I am aware of. You are to maintain overwatch of the various shipments tied to Cong and let the American continue his efforts. If a change in directive comes along, you will be informed. Third out.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Seven hours later, Mike, Adams, Jace, Katya, Soon Yi, and the twenty-five Keldara chosen for this mission, including all of Team Jayne and most of Inara, pulled into the driveway of the small trucking company where Cong had told him to meet.
Daria had done an amazing job on short notice. She
had picked up two Toyota Hilux Vigo extended-cab pickups with rear bed covers. For Mike’s command vehicle, she had found the Thai version of the Ford Expedition, called the Everest. All of the vehicles had four-wheel drive, and were less than a year old. Because of the slow sales season, she had paid just under ninety million kyat for all three. They also all had the steering wheel on the right-hand side, even though Myanmar had switched to the right-hand rule of the road in 1970.
The team vehicles were a pair of olive-green M35A2s, the same ones as those Team Jayne had used in Phuket. Although these were much older than the smaller trucks, the dealer had showed her the maintenance records from the seller, a bankrupt cargo delivery company. They had also provided a written guarantee that the trucks would be good for another five years, although Daria said she thought that might have been entirely due to the short skirt she had worn to the purchase meeting. Initially skeptical, Mike and Adams had taken a look at the engine, transmission, and other visible parts, and they had all looked okay. Plus, the price couldn’t be beat—forty-five million kyat for the pair.
They had picked up the vehicles that afternoon and immediately loaded the men, weapons, ammo, and gear. They’d selected enough for a five-night run, figuring two days there, two back, and one extra day for friction. Just getting out of the city took almost three hours—and that was during a non-rush hour time of day. They had just made it to the rendezvous point on schedule.
Cong and his people were ready and waiting for them. He had ten brand-new Mercedes-Benz cargo trucks filled to capacity with the weapons and ammunition. A white Lexus SUV was serving as Cong’s private transportation, with another SUV holding the rest of his personal guard. The sun was just starting to set as Mike, Adams, Jace, and Soon Yi met with Cong to discuss the proposed route.
“We’re staying on the main roads, all well-traveled highways that shouldn’t give us any problems,” the general said. “I want a vehicle scouting the road at least two kilometers ahead of the main unit, so they can radio back if they encounter any problem. Any questions?”
