Poseidon's Arrow

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Poseidon's Arrow Page 19

by Clive Cussler


  A lone goose scattered with an angry honk as the van hurled up a wall of green water. After a few seconds, the van filled with water and disappeared into the deep pond, leaving only a diminishing froth of bubbles.

  Pablo didn’t wait for it to sink but instead jogged back to the barn. He picked up the envelope and threw it into the truck’s cab before coming back for Ann. Without a word, he carried her to the cab and dropped her in a flat compartment behind the front seats.

  “You might as well get comfortable,” he said, starting the truck and shifting into gear. “We have a long trip ahead of us.”

  36

  THE HELICOPTER FLEW IN FAST AT TREETOP LEVEL, zooming low over the hangars to surprise the waiting dignitaries seated along the runway. It was a military chopper, its fuselage designed with sharp angles and coated with an absorbent material that rendered it nearly invisible to radar. A special composite five-blade main rotor and matching tail assembly added to its stealth qualities by dramatically reducing its noise signature. An aviation expert from Jane’s Defence Weekly would take one look at the chopper and identify it as a Stealth Hawk, one of the U.S. Army’s heavily modified UH-80 Black Hawks, like the one used in the raid to capture Osama bin Laden. But this helicopter was entirely Chinese built.

  The craft swooped about the Yangcun Air Base south of Beijing, buzzing the field several times before alighting. The crowd of generals and defense officials stood and applauded the exhibition of the country’s latest technological triumph. The cheers became muted when a Party official took to an elevated podium and launched into a tired diatribe touting China’s greatness.

  Edward Bolcke leaned over to a bullet-eyed man wearing a uniform draped with medals. “Splendid aircraft, General Jintai.”

  “Yes, it is,” Jintai said. “And we didn’t even need your help to build it.”

  Bolcke shook off the jab with a grin. Having just received Pablo’s call from Maryland, he was brimming with confidence.

  The crowd suffered through several more long-winded speeches before being herded into an open hangar with a buffet line. Bolcke trailed the general, a vice-chairman of China’s Central Military Commission, as he mingled with other top People’s Liberation Army officials. After inquiring about a fellow general’s new condominium in Hong Kong, Jintai backtracked to Bolcke.

  “My hospitality duties are now complete,” he said to the Austrian. “We have some business to discuss?”

  “If you please,” Bolcke replied.

  “Very well. Let me find our chief spymaster, and we’ll speak in private.”

  Jintai scanned the crowd until locating a slight, bespectacled man drinking a Heineken beer. Tao Liang was a directorate head in the Ministry of State Security, the agency that handled China’s intelligence and counterintelligence activities. Tao stood talking with Zhou Xing, the field operative from Bayan Obo, who calmly studied the assembled dignitaries. The peasant-faced man subtly alerted Tao that Jintai was stalking him while the general was still halfway across the room.

  “Tao, there you are,” the general said. “Come, we have a business proposal to evaluate with our old friend Edward Bolcke.”

  “Our old friend Bolcke,” Tao said with an acid tone. “Yes, I am curious to hear his latest offerings.”

  With Zhou following, the men crossed the hangar to a small private office. It had been prepared for them with a portable liquor cabinet and a platter of dim sum. Jintai poured himself a whiskey and sat down with the others at a teak conference table.

  “May I offer my congratulations, gentlemen, on your latest deployment,” Bolcke said. “It is an admirable day for China’s guardians. In a small way.”

  He paused, letting his insult register. “I would propose that tomorrow, however, may bring a revolutionary day to your country’s defense.”

  “Are you going to emasculate the Russian and American military for us?” Jintai said, chuckling to himself as he downed the last of his whiskey.

  “In a manner of speaking, yes.”

  “You are a miner and a petty thief, Bolcke. What are you saying?”

  Bolcke peered at the general with narrowed eyes. “Yes, I am a miner. I know the value of important minerals, such as gold and silver . . . and rare earths.”

  “We understand the value of rare earth elements,” Tao said. “That is why we manipulate the price by using you as a broker to make acquisitions on the open market.”

  “It’s no secret that China holds a near monopoly on the production of rare earth elements,” Bolcke said. “But that monopoly has been put at risk by activity at two large mines outside your country. The Americans recently reopened their Mountain Pass Mine, while Australia’s Mount Weld operations are undergoing expansion.”

  Jintai puffed out his chest. “We will always be dominant.”

  “Perhaps. But you will no longer control the market.”

  Bolcke removed a large photo from his attaché case. It showed an aerial view of some smoldering buildings in a desert setting next to an open-pit mine.

  “This is the remains of the American facility at Mountain Pass,” Bolcke said. “Their processing operations were destroyed by a fire last week. They will be unable to produce an ounce of rare earth elements for the next two years.”

  “You know something about the fire?” Tao asked.

  Bolcke stared at him in silence, his lips upturned in a smug grin. He placed a second photo on the table. It showed another open-pit mine in a desert setting.

  “This is the Mount Weld Mine in western Australia. It’s owned by the Hobart Mining Company, in which I have recently become a minority shareholder.”

  “I understand the Australians have temporarily halted production while they modernize the facility,” Tao said.

  “You are correct.”

  “That is all very interesting,” Jintai said, “but what does this have to do with us?”

  Bolcke took a deep breath and looked down his nose at the general. “It has to do with two actions that you are about to undertake. First, you will underwrite five hundred million dollars so I may purchase outright the Australian mine at Mount Weld. Second, you will institute an immediate ban on Chinese exports of rare earths.”

  The room fell silent a moment before Jintai chuckled. “Anything else you desire?” he said, rising to fetch himself more whiskey. “Chief Executive of Hong Kong, perhaps?”

  Tao stared at Bolcke, intrigued. “Tell us why we will do these two things.”

  “Economics and security,” Bolcke said. “Together, we can control the entire market in rare earth elements. As you know, I broker much of the remaining world output—from places like India, Brazil, and South Africa—which I sell to you, bolstering prices. I can easily contract for long-term delivery from these sources before you announce a halt in exports, locking in those supplies. As for Mount Weld, if you fund my purchase, I will repay you in ore, which you can quietly resell to select trading partners at exorbitant profits, if you so desire. With the Americans out of commission, China will control virtually the entire global output of rare earth.”

  “We already control the bulk of the market,” Jintai said.

  “True, but you can control it all. The fire at Mountain Pass didn’t happen by accident. Mount Weld didn’t suddenly suspend operations of their own volition. It was all due to my influence.”

  “You have been a valued trading partner for both minerals and American defense technology,” Tao said. “So—prices are driven up, and we ultimately profit from the sale of the minerals . . .”

  “No,” Bolcke said, “you can do better than that. With full control of the market, you can force every global company that uses rare earth elements to consign their manufacturing and technology to China. Every smartphone and laptop, every wind turbine, every space satellite, will be yours. And technology’s the key. Nearl
y every cutting-edge technology today makes use of rare earth elements, and that will place you in a dominant position for tomorrow’s advances in consumer products and, more importantly, defense weaponry.”

  He stared at Jintai. “Wouldn’t you rather introduce the most advanced attack helicopter yourself rather than copy somebody else’s?”

  The general simply nodded.

  “Instead of playing catch-up with Western technology, China will lead the way. By totally controlling the supply of rare earths, you put an immediate halt to a multitude of Western military advances. New generations of American missiles, lasers, radars—even ship propulsion systems—rely on rare earth elements. By shutting off the supply, you can erase the technology gap. Rather than China copying Western defense technologies, they will be copying you.” Bolcke casually collected the photos and returned them to his briefcase. “As I said, it’s a matter of economics and security. They go hand in hand—and you can dominate the world in both arenas.”

  The comments struck a nerve with Jintai, who constantly decried the inferior weapons the People’s Liberation Army fielded. “Perhaps it would be an appropriate time to act,” he said to Tao.

  “Perhaps,” Tao said, “but wouldn’t it create havoc with our Western trading partners?”

  “It’s possible,” Bolcke said, “but what can they really do? To maintain their own shaky economies, they will have no choice but to partner with you and share in their developments.”

  The spymaster casually lit a cigarette with an expensive lighter. “What is in all this for you, Mr. Bolcke?”

  “Your actions will increase the profitability of my mineral brokering business. And I trust you will allow me to sell a portion of the Mount Weld output to friendly trading partners at a healthy profit.” He said nothing of his intent to supply the growing black market in rare earth elements from the mine, nor the fact that he could purchase the property for two hundred million dollars less than he demanded.

  Tao nodded. “We will take the matter up with the politburo as an urgent priority,” he promised.

  “Thank you. In hope of arriving at a mutually beneficial outcome, I have one other item to offer. In the past, I’ve been able to pass along a few military technologies from my U.S. security firm, for which you have generously compensated me.”

  “Yes,” Jintai said. “We have already fielded the crowd-control device to quell some incidents of unrest in the western provinces.”

  “I have installed units aboard two of my ships, which have been modified to an impressive level of lethality. I will be happy to share these modifications if you are interested. But that technology is inconsequential compared to what I can now offer you.”

  He spread two more photos on the table.

  “This is an artist’s rendering of the Sea Arrow.” Bolcke pointed to the first glossy. “The Sea Arrow will be the world’s most highly advanced stealth submarine.”

  Jintai gave a curious look, and Tao nodded in recognition.

  “The Sea Arrow will operate at extremely high speed, using a complex propulsion unit in conjunction with a supercavitation system.” Bolcke pointed to the second image. “It will place the American Navy’s submerged fleet several generations ahead of your own.”

  Jintai’s face simmered red. “We are always three steps behind.”

  “Not this time,” Bolcke said with a shark-toothed grin. “Less than one hour ago, I came into possession of the initial power plant that was scheduled to be installed on the Sea Arrow next week. In addition, I now have the one and only copy of the plans and drawings for the submarine’s supercavitation system.”

  He leaned over the table in a gloating pose. “The Americans can duplicate the power plant only with rare earth elements. And without the supercavitation plans, their submarine is worthless.”

  The Chinese officials did their best not to appear too eager. “You are willing to share these items with us?” Tao asked with feigned indifference.

  “Sources tell me the Americans have secretly spent over a billion dollars in developing the Sea Arrow. If we have a deal on the other items we discussed, I shall be happy to sell you the motor and the plans for an additional fifty million dollars.”

  Tao didn’t blink. “When could you deliver it?”

  “The motor and plans will arrive by ship in Panama in five days. I’ll be happy to make the transfer there.”

  “It is an attractive proposal,” Tao said. “We will afford it appropriate consideration.”

  “Excellent.” Bolcke collected the photos and glanced at his watch. “I’m afraid I have to catch a flight to Sydney. I’ve opened preliminary discussions for the acquisition of Mount Weld, so I will eagerly await your reply.”

  “We will move as quickly as we can,” Jintai said.

  The general called for an aide, and Bolcke was escorted out after everyone stood and shook hands. Jintai poured a whiskey for Tao and another for himself.

  “Well, Tao, our Austrian friend makes a compelling case. Since our economy is strong, we can afford to muscle the marketplace. And why not try to make the technological leap that will assure our safety for the next century?”

  “There could be potential economic repercussions that the General Secretary won’t relish,” Tao said, “but I agree that it is worth the risk.”

  “Will he balk at the loan and cash payments?”

  “Not when I explain the value of the Sea Arrow technology. We’ve had agents trying to penetrate the program, but with no success. I don’t question Bolcke’s estimate of their expenditures. In fact, he may be understating their costs.” He studied his glass of whiskey. “We must do what we can to obtain it.”

  Jintai smiled. “Then it is agreed. We will jointly support the proposal to the General Secretary.”

  “But there is one problem with our Austrian friend.” Tao turned to Zhou, who had been sitting silent throughout the meeting. “Please, tell the general what you have learned.”

  Zhou cleared his throat. “General, I was assigned to investigate thefts of rare earth elements from our primary mine operation in Bayan Obo. There I found an organized crime ring that was systematically stealing crushed ore and transporting it to Tianjin. I tracked an illicit delivery that was loaded aboard a freighter called the Graz.” He paused, glancing at Tao for confirmation to keep talking.

  “Should the name mean something to me?” Jintai asked.

  “The Graz,” Tao said, “is owned by Bolcke’s shipping company.”

  “Bolcke is orchestrating the theft of our own rare earth?”

  “Yes,” Tao said. “He was brought in as a consultant at the mine some years ago, giving him opportunity to establish the theft ring. But it’s worse than that.” He nodded at Zhou.

  “I examined a number of port records to track the freighter’s path,” Zhou said. “From Tianjin it sailed to Shanghai, and then to Hong Kong, where it off-loaded thirty metric tons of crushed bastnasite that the Ministry of Commerce had purchased on the open market. The purchase was brokered through Bolcke’s firm, Habsburg Industries.”

  “Bolcke is selling us our own rare earth?” Jintai nearly popped out of his chair.

  Zhou nodded.

  “The greedy swine!” Catching his breath, he turned to Tao. “What do we do now?”

  Tao carefully snuffed his cigarette in an ashtray before locking eyes with Jintai.

  “The American technology must be obtained at all costs. We will send Zhou to Panama to proceed with its acquisition.”

  “What about the rare earths? Do we proceed with the export ban and fund the mine acquisition?”

  “We will still push for the export ban. As for the mine funding . . .” His hardened face turned sly. “We will arrange to pay back Mr. Bolcke in a manner that will produce the same ends.”

  37

&nb
sp; PLUMERIA BLOSSOMS, MIXED WITH THE FAINT aroma of aviation fuel, filled the air as Pitt and Giordino exited the terminal at Honolulu International Airport. The bright sunshine and tropical breeze instantly washed away the fatigue of their twelve-hour flight from Washington. Giordino hailed a cab, and they hopped in for the short ride to Pearl Harbor.

  The palm-lined streets brought back a flood of memories to Pitt. He had spent considerable time in the Hawaiian Islands during his first years with NUMA. It was here he had fallen in love with a radiant woman named Summer Moran. Though it had been decades since he had last seen her alive, her delicate face and sparkling eyes remained as clear to him as the sky overhead. The deceased mother of his two grown children, she lay buried in an ocean-view cemetery on the other side of the island.

  Pitt shook away his recollections as they reached the entrance to the Navy base. A young ensign was waiting for them at the visitors’ gate and politely loaded their bags into a Jeep. He navigated onto the docks and pulled up next to a slab-sided vessel with a slim, round superstructure that looked like it had been lopped off with a sharp knife.

  “What is it?” Giordino asked. “Some sort of car ferry on steroids?”

  “You’re not far from the mark,” Pitt said. “The Fortitude’s design is based on a high-speed automobile ferry built by an Australian company.”

  “Catamaran hull?” Giordino said, noting the ship’s rotund bow was supported by twin vertical hulls.

  “Yes, and made of aluminum. The Fortitude is driven by water-jet propulsion. She’s part of the Military Sealift Command, and is designed to transport troops and equipment quickly. The Navy’s building a small fleet of them.”

  As they retrieved their bags from the Jeep, a lantern-jawed man in fatigues approached them. “Mr. Pitt?”

  “Yes, I’m Pitt.”

  “Lieutenant Aaron Plugrad, Coast Guard Maritime Safety.” The man reached out and shook Pitt’s hand with an iron grip. “My men are already secured aboard the Fortitude. I’m told we can shove off at any time.”

 

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