The iron gate swung inward, and the van pulled into a courtyard. Popeye Zhang stepped out and opened the side door.
“Lau wai.” Zhang jerked his thumb, motioning Matt out of the van.
Old foreigner. It was a favorite insult for Westerners, probably the least offensive one he’d heard. The Taiwanese were convinced they looked younger than their Western counterparts. In Matt’s case, they were probably right.
He stepped out into the gravel courtyard and breathed deeply, relieved to be out of the van. He looked around, impressed by the sheer size of the place. Gray Wolf’s home looked more like a Buddhist temple than a private residence. It was hidden by the cypress trees and high wall that surrounded it - he could have driven by that iron gate a hundred times without seeing the house. The gate clanged shut behind him with a finality that made him look over his shoulder. The top of the stone wall was lined with pieces of broken glass embedded in concrete. One thing was certain. He wasn’t leaving until it was Gray Wolf’s idea.
“Ang mo.” Zhang drew the expression out, prompting his goons to snicker. He pointed to the double doors of the main entrance.
Red beard. Another favorite insult for Westerners, alluding to their relatively hairy bodies. When he first heard the term, Matt had protested that his hair was black and he didn’t have a beard, but it didn’t matter. All Americans were ang mo to the Taiwanese. Popeye Zhang’s arrogance was beginning to annoy him. He toyed with the idea of dropping him to his knees, just to teach him a few manners, but decided this wasn’t the place.
The double doors of the entrance opened wide. Two male servants dressed in black mandarin gowns stood in the foyer, one on either side of him, pulling the heavy doors inward. Matt wasn’t confused by the gowns. Obviously Gray Wolf’s personal bodyguards, the two men looked like they could eat Popeye Zhang and his thugs for breakfast. With one in front and the other behind, Matt walked down a long tiled hallway with a smaller set of double doors at the end. The man in front knocked on the door softly, opened it, and exchanged a few words of Mandarin with a voice inside. He pushed the door inward and held it for Matt, eyeing him.
Matt stepped inside. His years aboard a sub allowed his eyes to adjust to the dim light quickly. He glanced around at what appeared to be a striking and tastefully furnished study. Rich tapestries adorned dark paneled walls. Flower arrangements sat atop lacquered tables on the perimeter. Joss sticks smoldered in the corners, masking a strange animal smell of some kind. Gray Wolf sat behind an ornately carved teak desk, writing with a fountain pen. Matt stood quietly. Gray Wolf finished the last few strokes of whatever he was writing, rolled a blotter over it, and looked up.
“Mr. Connor,” he said, coming to his feet. “I apologize for not greeting you properly. Kindly forgive me for being a poor host.”
Relieved, Matt flashed a smile.
“No need to apologize.”
Something moved on either side of Gray Wolf’s desk. At first, he thought it was two dogs, the strange animal smell. They came to their feet, shoulders level with the desk, heads erect above it. Matt flinched. Were they wolves? He’d seen wolves in a zoo before, but never this close. Obviously males, they looked as big as lions. The pair lowered their heads and crept toward him, exposing fangs that gleamed like knives, growling gutturally. The hair on the back of his neck stood up.
“Saddam. Osama. Zhanzhu.”
The pair stopped in their tracks.
“You must forgive them,” Gray Wolf said. “They’re no more trustworthy than their namesakes.”
Matt froze, not taking his eyes off the pair. The Taiwanese routinely named vicious dogs after infamous people, but wolves? He stared at them. They’d stopped growling, but their fangs were still exposed. Their canine teeth above and below had been replaced with what appeared to be steel spikes. It took all his discipline to stand still.
Gray Wolf snapped another command in Mandarin, and the pair abruptly lowered their muzzles and dropped to their hindquarters.
Matt stared, amazed that wild animals could be controlled to such an extent. Gray Wolf watched him with an amused expression.
“They both had canine teeth broken off during training exercises,” Gray Wolf said. “I had them replaced with titanium spikes.” He smiled. “Impressive, aren’t they?”
Matt nodded, still staring at them. “I didn’t think wolves were trainable.”
“They’re half German shepherd and half timber wolf. The dog part is trainable, the wolf part is not,” he said with a shrug. “I never turn my back on them.” He walked around from behind the massive desk and extended his hand, smiling. “It’s good to see you again, younger brother.”
“And you,” Matt said, his eyes still on the matched pair sitting on their haunches before him.
Gray Wolf snapped another command in Mandarin, and the wolf-dogs slunk back to their resting places by the desk.
“Ni chr bau le ma?” Have you eaten your fill? It was the traditional way of asking, “How are you?” in Taiwan, a land that had seen its share of famine and hard times.
Matt said “Yes” in Mandarin and asked the same of Gray Wolf, although the answer was obvious. The leader of the Great Wall Triad wore a gray Italian-cut silk suit over a crisp white shirt and silk maroon tie. He had to be in his mid-seventies, but a thin layer of fat made his skin as smooth as polished amber. Even in the dimly lit room, he exuded prosperity.
“Your Mandarin lessons have served you well,” he said.
“Progress has been slow for this thick head,” Matt said in Cantonese, showing off his ability to speak both.
“I’m glad to see you keeping up with Professor Liu’s lessons.”
It would have been impossible not to. Gray Wolf had hired a retired university professor to teach him Mandarin and Cantonese, and she’d taken to the job like a drill sergeant. The old man’s insistence that Matt learn both dialects as a condition of the loan had initially puzzled him, but his mentor was right. It had served him well. He grinned.
“It’s hard when we’re at sea, but I manage. Professor Liu is a strict taskmaster.”
Gray Wolf laughed. “Let’s sit over here, Matthew, where we can relax over lau ren cha.
Pensioner’s tea. It was an involved ritual and the first indication that Matt was going to be there awhile. It was so called because old people who had nothing better to do liked to sit around with their friends, sipping tea, snacking on whatever was available, and talking. For hours. He stole a glance at his watch. He was eager to resolve whatever Gray Wolf had on his mind and get back to the ship, but it was considered rude to come to the point quickly.
Gray Wolf steered Matt to a pair of comfortable-looking sofas in the corner of the room. A lacquered table between them held a tray of fresh dim sum and a small gray box.
Gray Wolf took a seat on the opposite sofa, not taking his eyes off Matt. An elderly female servant appeared, carrying a tray loaded with paraphernalia. Matt dutifully watched her take a small teapot, fill it with leaves from a brick of tea, and place it inside a terra-cotta bowl along with two demitasse cups. Holding a towel, she picked up a steaming cauldron from the tray and poured hot water over the tea leaves to activate them, then over the cups to heat them. Using a pair of bamboo tweezers, she rolled the cups in the scalding water, then removed them to let them stand and dry while the tea steeped. After a few minutes, she poured tea into one of the cups and presented it to Matt with both hands, head lowered.
“You prefer Oolong, as I recall,” Gray Wolf said.
“Yes, thank you.” Matt took the cup with both hands in the old way, showing respect. He waited until Gray Wolf had been served, then went through the ritual he was expected to perform as a guest. He savored the aroma under his nose, noted approvingly that there were no leaves in the tea, then took a sip. The bitterness behind the aroma turned to sweetness in his mouth when he swallowed. He nodded.
“This tea is excellent.”
Gray Wolf shrugged. “The water was too hot.”
> “Sorry to disagree, but it’s the best I’ve had.”
A slight smile lifted Gray Wolf’s eyes.
“You’re not Taiwanese, yet you instinctively understand ren ching wei.”
The flavor of human emotions. It roughly meant a sincere demeanor, combined with a certain outward charm or appeal that stayed within the bounds of Confucian humility. Next to face, it was the most important concept to understand for getting along in Taiwan. It was a rare compliment for a Westerner. Matt nodded but said nothing.
Gray Wolf sipped his tea, watching him.
“The winds say you’re getting under way.”
Matt felt something move in his stomach. He nodded.
“That’s right.”
“You were leaving without saying goodbye?”
“I didn’t know that was a requirement,” Matt said. As soon as the words were out, he knew it was the wrong thing to say.
Gray Wolf’s mood darkened.
“You’ve embarrassed me, younger brother. I’ve lost much face. My friends think I’m a fool for doing business with a foreigner, and then you prove them right by slinking out of port at midnight.”
“I wasn’t slinking out,” Matt said. “There’s a shallow draft in Kaohsiung Harbor. That’s when the tide comes in.”
“I see.” Gray Wolf sipped his tea, studying Matt’s face. “May I ask where you’re bound?”
“I have a job,” Matt said.
Gray Wolf raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”
“A freighter aground on an island east of Macau,” Matt said. “It came up without any warning, the way they always do, but it should be a lucrative job, worth maybe 5 million U.S. I know I’m behind on a payment, but if you can bear with me a little longer-”
Gray Wolf raised the fingers of his hand, cutting him off.
Matt flushed. What an idiot. He hadn’t been there five minutes, and already he was babbling about money.
Gray Wolf's face eased into a smile.
“Such good fortune. A job and visitors, all in the same day.”
Matt felt the movement in his stomach return. Don’t react. The two government agents had only been aboard an hour, and he’d taken them off through the cargo loading bay to keep them from being seen by Popeye Zhang and his men. Many people came aboard CoMar Explorer in the course of a day. Gray Wolf could be referring to anyone. He raised his eyebrows.
“Visitors?”
“The black man and white woman.”
“Oh, them. They’re from America,” Matt said, stating the obvious, implying they were friends, hoping Gray Wolf would drop it.
Gray Wolf sipped his tea.
“Did you know your friends from America were jianshi juzhu?”
Under surveillance. It didn’t bother him to learn that the two were being watched - foreigners on Taiwan were routinely followed by the government - but it bothered him that Gray Wolf was watching him and his ship so closely. He shrugged.
“How would I know that?”
“You wouldn’t, of course,” Gray Wolf said. “There must be some other explanation.”
“For what?”
Gray Wolf leveled his gaze at Matt. “Why you felt it necessary to remove the two agents through the cargo loading bay.”
Agents? Christ. How did he know? Matt felt transparent, as though Gray Wolf could see right through him. He should have known better than to try to deceive the man. The underworld leader had eyes everywhere. Matt squirmed in his seat. It was obvious Gray Wolf knew what was going on. If he leveled with him now and asked for his help, he might even get it. The worst he could do was refuse and cut him off. But if he lied to him, he could get himself killed. He couldn’t risk dancing around with Gray Wolf any longer. He sighed.
“I need your wise counsel.”
A gratified look came over Gray Wolf’s face.
“Oh? Is that so?”
While his host listened intently, Matt told Gray Wolf about the meeting with the two government agents and explained the details of the rescue plan. There was no need to hold anything back. It was obvious that Gray Wolf knew who the agents were. That’s why he’d been brought here. Gray Wolf had been playing with him, giving Matt every opportunity to save face for both of them by telling him on his own. Now that he had, his mentor seemed pleased.
“Hen you yisi.” Very interesting. “From Macau, I hear rumors of a foreign woman, a half-Chinese American scientist, being held in a laogai somewhere in the south of China. That has now been confirmed by you. From Hong Kong, I hear rumors of a scientific breakthrough in laser research by China Aerospace and Technology, and from Beijing, I hear rumors that the PLA is boasting of a new weapons system, a sha sho jian.”
Matt wasn’t sure he’d translated the words correctly. “Assassin’s mace?”
Gray Wolf nodded. “It’s a term used by the president of China during his New Year’s speech to the Central Military Commission. He ordered the military to develop a surprise weapon that would give China a decisive advantage over the United States during any regional conflict.”
“The agents didn’t say anything about a weapons system.”
“No, of course, they wouldn’t,” Gray Wolf said, “but I’m convinced those events are related.”
“What kind of weapons system?”
Gray Wolf shrugged. “I’m told it’s something that will knock out the U.S. military, temporarily, making it possible to take Taiwan, something that wouldn’t be in my best interest. My brother triads in Hong Kong and Macau haven’t fared well under Communist rule.”
Matt shook his head. “Forgive me, but I doubt very much that China could develop a weapons system that could do that.”
Gray Wolf steepled his fingers. “Americans think only they can innovate. But while America rests on its cold war laurels, working to improve its conventional military power, other nations are working at ways to overcome it.”
Matt studied his eyes. It was common knowledge on the docks that Gray Wolf was one of the biggest arms dealers in Asia. What did he know?
“Like how?”
“You’re a student of military history, Matthew. There’ve been many revolutions in warfare. Some quite basic, like the stirrup, which made mounted troops effective, then the long bow, then gunpowder. In our time the revolutions have become increasingly sophisticated - radio, aircraft, sonar, radar, nuclear weapons. Each was a major revolution in the art and science of war. Another revolution is at hand, with the rise of the information age. While the Western powers have been asleep, I believe China has leapfrogged ahead.”
“With all respect,” Matt said, “that’s nonsense. How can you compare China’s military with the high-tech weaponry of the U.S.? Look at Iraq. We toppled Saddam in ten days. He didn’t know what hit him.”
Gray Wolf waved his hand. “A late industrial-age skirmish. Nothing more. Tomorrow’s wars will be fought in the information age. The battlefield of tomorrow will look very different, and the West isn’t prepared.”
“There’s just one flaw with that argument,” Matt said. “It would take billions to develop a weapons system that could do all that. China’s an emerging power, but they don’t have that kind of money.”
“So they would have you believe,” Gray Wolf said. “Under General Lao Jianxing the PLA has been selling conventional weapons - planes, tanks, and artillery - to countries like Iran, Iraq, and North Korea, for hard cash, which they then used to develop RMA weaponry. That’s why Lao installed his American-educated son as chairman of China Aerospace and Technology. The West gets upset at such sales, but those weapons are largely obsolete. While you’ve been fixated on their sale of yesterday’s weapons, they’ve leapfrogged you into the twenty-first century.”
“You’re saying that China is preparing for war against America?”
“Of course,” Gray Wolf said. “China is 5,000 years old. Do you think it’ll allow itself to be dominated indefinitely by an upstart nation barely 200 years old?”
“Do you think the leadershi
p of China is crazy? They aren’t about to engage the United States in a war.”
“War is like death,” Gray Wolf said. “No one thinks it’ll come, and when it does, no one can believe it’s happened. But war, like death, always comes.”
“Okay,” Matt said. “Let’s assume they have this innovative new weapon. What do you think it is, and how do you think they’ll use it?”
“No one knows,” Gray Wolf said. “I’ve offered huge sums to find out, with no results. The security surrounding this weapon is the tightest I’ve seen. But the indications are that it’ll be used initially to take Taiwan.”
Matt shrugged. “If that’s all they do with it, that may evoke a big yawn from the rest of the world. The only country that even says they care is the U.S., and they’ve worked themselves into a corner. On the one hand, they’ve adopted a ‘One China’ policy, on the other they’ve declared they’ll defend Taiwan if she’s attacked. I suspect if China took the island quickly and with minimal bloodshed, a lot of folks on Capitol Hill would be relieved to see it go. They’d say the right words publicly, but privately they’d be glad to be rid of the problem.”
“They’re seriously misguided to think it’s just the fate of Taiwan at stake,” Gray Wolf said. “What China wants is not Taiwan, but hegemony in the Pacific. Once China takes the island, the U.S. will be forced out of the Pacific and China will be the dominant power in Asia.”
Gray Wolf let that sink in while he sipped his tea. “Apparently, the only person outside the PLA who knows what the weapons system is and how it’ll be used is the American woman scientist who somehow discovered what they were doing. That’s why she must be freed - why you must go.”
Matt leaned back and rubbed his eyes. Gray Wolf was getting old. He was adding three separate bits of information and getting a giant, fantastic conspiracy. But at least he wasn’t standing in Matt’s way. He was actually encouraging the mission, though for a different motive. Well, the agents had theirs, Gray Wolf had his, and Matt had his - to save his neck.
“I’ll go and get the woman, but not because of any weapons system,” Matt said. “If they have such a thing, the U.S. obviously knows about it. With all their intelligence, they have to. Whatever China’s got, whatever they’re planning, the U.S. will preempt it.”
China Star Page 6
