Rather than head for Victoria Harbor, the pilot shuttle turned out to the open water toward the back of Hong Kong Island. There were a few fishing boats out in the pre-dawn hour, and no visible harbor police. The customs patrols were not strict on their own people and they would not stop a clearly identified pilot boat. The pilot crews were usually Hong Kong nationals, not mainlanders. So were most of the customs agents, and they would not interfere if a small black market trade went on outside of the meddling arms of the central government. It was a code that nothing would be imported that would hurt their people—no guns, no explosives, and no manufactured drugs. The currency, diamonds, or gold that might be smuggled in were good for the economy, and the bribery proceeds were certainly good for the cash flow of the pilot boat crews. The shift supervisor said he had known their traveler since school days, and it was not necessary to evaluate his motives or to inspect his materials. There was no reason to doubt that he would follow the code. However, if the harbor police detained them or if the crew reported him, Chao thought it would not be a tragedy. It would just be a bit more difficult as favors would have to be called in.
The last leg of the trip took about thirty minutes. In the creeping, orange light of the coming dawn, the helmsman found the small inlet on the south coast of the island. The pilot boat entered the inlet and approached the isolated dock off to the side behind an outcropping of rocks. When the boat reached the dock, Chao collected his duffle bag and backpack, and thanked the helmsman and the crew. He strode to the pulpit of the small cruiser and hopped off the bow. The pilot shuttle’s engine shifted to reverse almost immediately after Chao touched down on the small dock. He walked toward the shore in the growing daylight, briefly pausing to watch the boat depart before leaving the dock. Sunlight now filtered in over the mountains behind the inlet, and to Chao, it was definitely a beautiful new day.
Fifty meters down the small path from the rickety dock was an unpaved street. A car was parked there. When the driver saw the traveler, he popped open the car’s trunk before leaving the car to greet him. He ran to him and hugged him warmly. After they broke the hug, they looked at each other’s happy face before entering the car.
The driver was the first to speak.
“You look so good, little brother. How was your trip?”
“Although it was long, it was much easier than I thought it would be. The accommodations on the ship were fine. I had an individual cabin. It was small, reasonably comfortable, and I only left to take meals with the crew.“
“How was the weather? Any problems being seasick?”
“No. It was generally calm. Our late mother would be happy to know that I never lost my dinner. That was a good thing too, because although I had a private cabin, I did not have a private head.”
“I’m sure it would please her to know that her little boy with the weak stomach crossed the Pacific without vomiting once. I am happy it went easily for you.”
“Thank you for that. Even so, it is good to be home. No more Pacific crossings for me.”
“It is a relief to me to have you home.”
They made their way around the mountainous island on two lane roads. They drove quietly for a time, before the driver spoke.
“Was there any difficulty in bringing your package?”
“Other than the stress on my heart from the excitement, it was not difficult.”
“What was the worst of it?”
“Leaving Hawaii was the most stressful. I thought the Americans would stop me at any time. I did not feel safe until we were three hundred kilometers out to sea.”
“Did you think they were looking for you?”
“No,” he said, smiling, “You know a guilty conscience on an honorable businessman is a heavy weight.”
“Which honorable businessman were you thinking of? Surely not you.”
“It was a figure of speech. This type of smuggling is new to me. My mind saw police behind every building, every bush, and every wave.”
“Chao, you always had too much imagination,” said the older brother.
“Yes, I don’t have the right temperament to be a smuggler. Taking blueprints or computer chips doesn’t feel like smuggling. This did.”
“Don’t underestimate your talents. You are very successful at all of it.”
The traffic was building as they turned onto a major road. The morning rush was well underway. Chao closed his eyes in the now familiar setting and his brother respected the quiet and his brother’s fatigue. After another half-hour of stop and start traffic, they turned off the street and into a garage. Chao awoke, looked out, and did not need to ask where they were. He opened his door and met his brother at the open trunk of the car.
“Let me carry that for you,” said the driver as his brother reached in for the duffle bag.
“No,” said Chao. “Father said we should always finish a job we start. I’ll carry it up.” He hoisted the duffle, closed the trunk, and followed his brother.
They said nothing more as they rode the elevator to the lobby of the massive building above them. They walked over the polished stone floors from the garage elevator to the building elevator banks. It was still early and very few people were in the lobby. The elevator arrived quickly.
With no other passengers, it was an express trip to the thirty-first floor. The men exited the elevator and walked down the carpeted office hallway, stopping at the door lettered in English and Chinese, “Edwards Technologies.”
They opened the door and walked down a corridor past several cubicles until reaching the last office. They entered the corner office that had a commanding view of the harbor and Kowloon through two walls of glass. Closing the door behind them, Chao lifted the duffle to the desk.
“Are you ready?” asked Chao.
“Yes. Let’s see what six-million-yuan worth of rice seed looks like.”
Chao unzipped the duffle. Opening the duffle wide, he unzipped the inner cover and took out his clothing, placing it to one side. When the clothing was stacked neatly away from the duffle, he looked at his brother for dramatic effect before starting to remove the rest of the contents.
One by one, he laid the sealed plastic bags on the table. The other man was wordless as he watched.
When Chao finished, his brother looked delighted as he counted the bags in front of him.
“Well done. Eight liters of seeds. This is more than I was expecting.”
“Remember, Mother told us that happy surprises are the best sweets life gives us. Happy surprise, Jun.”
“Well done. Our ancestors must be proud of you this day.”
“Yes, a happy day. Should we drive out to Uncle’s farm now?”
“No, you are tired from the long journey. You need to rest. I’ll drive out to Lantau later today and bring these to him. I heard that rain is on the way so it is a perfect time.”
“You know our associate in Hawaii says they do not need as much rain as normal rice. Their roots grow quickly, and they are much more efficient than the roots of normal plants.”
“And they produce a crop in 90 days?”
“That is what he said. He said that if the conditions are perfect, we can produce a crop in 60 days.“
“60 days? That is amazing, two or three times as many crops in a year than normal if the weather is right.”
“Yes. They are very hardy, and self-propagate, so less labor is needed to plant them.”
“That is amazing. I think the Americans were wrong to keep this to themselves.”
“They have their corn and wheat farmers to please. We must concentrate on rice.”
“We need to celebrate your success, brother.” Jun walked to a cabinet behind his desk. “I’ve been saving this for a very special event,” he said, pulling out a bottle.
“It’s only 7:30,” said Chao, as his brother poured two glasses from the bottle
.
“That doesn’t matter. We need to toast your success and our future. We have done a wonderful thing for China.”
Jun turned to Chao, handing him his glass. “To China,” Jun said. “May you never see hunger again. May you never need to import food again.”
“To China,” answered Chao. “Gan Bei.”
CHAPTER 3
Franco’s plane was waiting when his cab arrived at the single runway airstrip on the outskirts of Oban. There was little other activity and only a few people took any interest in seeing Franco board the King Air turboprop.
Without much fanfare, a pilot in a Royal Air Force uniform welcomed him aboard, pulled up the air stairs, and closed the cabin door. Franco took one of the seats in the back and the crewman took his own seat as the co-pilot. Franco was consumed with trying to understand how Pauling had planted Ani, and he spent most of the next airborne hours working this out in his head.
He remembered the last time he saw Pauling and it brought back memories he would rather have kept buried. The old man had visited him in intensive care after the last mission. It seemed like a hundred years ago. He had still been intubated and his leg was in traction. The chest tube in his side made any movement even more painful than the bullets that had caused the problem. Those unpleasant images were coming back all too clearly.
Why was he making this trip? Hadn’t he learned that nearly dying for the Admiral the last time was enough? Well, at least the money he was being paid for this trip was attractive; that couldn’t be said for the last time.
The cloud cover continued, and there was little to see below until they settled into the approach at Dunedin. The ceiling was such that the harbor and surrounding low mountains came into view only on their final approach. It was a terrible sightseeing tour for such a picturesque town.
The pilots taxied the plane down to the general aviation area and pulled up to the large Gulfstream business jet on the tarmac. The co-pilot popped the cabin door and lowered the stairs before speaking to Franco.
“The Admiral’s waiting for you, mate. He lives in the big, white house.” The pilot pointed at the Gulfstream. “We’ll be here when you finish, Commander, and we’ll take you back to Stewart.”
Franco thanked the young officer and deplaned. He took a few short steps on the tarmac to the foot of the Gulfstream’s steps. A large man in a dark suit stood at the bottom of the steps. The man looked at Franco and said, “Welcome aboard, Commander Franco. The Admiral is expecting you.”
After Franco boarded the big jet, another man in a suit who had been posted at the cabin door, excused himself as Franco entered.
Sitting at a desk, alone in the large cabin, Pauling had a folder in front of him and was reading a document. “Good to see you, Franco,” said the older man, without looking up. “Hold on a minute while I finish this. Have some water or coffee.” He pointed to the jet’s galley. “The coffee’s fresh.”
“Do you need anything?” Franco asked the old man. Receiving no reply, Franco walked to the alcove and helped himself to a cup of coffee.
He carried the coffee back to the couch opposite the desk, and sat, waiting another minute or two while the Admiral completed his reading.
Eventually, the old man looked at Franco. “How was the trip up?”
“Just fine,” said Franco. “Before we have any other conversations, I want to know how you set me up with Ani. By the way, she says ‘hello.’”
Pauling said, “Oh, thanks. Ani’s a great kid. I’ve known her for a while. I asked her to keep an eye on you.”
“And does that mean pimping her out to keep me interested?”
“Hell, Franco, I don’t know anything about that. I have nothing to do with anything between you two beyond a little basic intel.” The Admiral added with a smirk, “Give yourself a little credit, son. I just asked her to watch you and to tell me if you left Stewart Island. Frankly, I didn’t care if she even met you—probably would have been better if she hadn’t.”
Franco thought about what he had just heard. “Okay, why am I so special to you? What’s on your mind, sir?”
The old man arranged his folders and launched into the briefing. “I’m involved with a case of theft—big time industrial theft, that has expanded to stealing from the federal government. The theft is particularly embarrassing since it involves stealing assets we were supposed to be keeping in safe custody for a prominent citizen.” The old man paused before saying, “I know you’re going to love the fact that this theft involves plants.”
“Plants? You must be joking.”
“I’m not a joker. You know that,” quickly replied the Admiral.
“Yes, sir,” said Franco, and then continued, “My last encounter with plants didn’t turn out very well.”
The Admiral spoke slowly. “I understand your reluctance. However, this time it’s going to be different in that you’re not on the point. I need you because I need a person whose judgment I can trust to keep me informed on the progress of finding these thieves. I need information I can trust and I want you to be there. You’ll be in the rear—just talking with me, and only if I call you, which I probably won’t. No guns, no rough stuff, just observation. The front team is being run by Sam Rorke, who’s just perfect for this job. I’m sure it will all go very smoothly.”
“The numbers you mentioned earlier are a lot of money for just chatting with you.”
“Call it payback. I owe you from the last outing. On that last mission, you had to deal with a lot more than I expected and you paid a price for it. Since neither of us are in the Navy anymore, I have a little more flexibility to take care of you and I don’t mind paying you well.”
“I assume I’ll get paid when the job is done,” said Franco.
“That’s right. Rorke will tell you when your services are no longer needed and I’ll manage to get the money to you.”
“So, I’m working for Rorke?”
“Well, you’re working for me but this is Rorke’s show. So, it’s probably good to think you’re working for Rorke.”
“I suppose I can do that for that kind of cash.”
“Good. Franco, this is a very important project. Here’s why...” The Admiral paused again.
“This operation involves two brothers from Hong Kong who have done rather well by stealing western technology—mostly U.S. technology. They’re fairly broad-minded in what they choose to steal, and they’ve made a lot of money. We think they’ve taken out sensitive and proprietary technologies from our computer industry that are both hardware and software related. They front these technologies through their Hong Kong company and sell to the highest bidder, with Chinese government-connected companies usually being the highest bidder. This time we think they pilfered rice seed stocks from a Department of Agriculture station in Hawaii.”
“Really?” said Franco. “You’re telling me they stole rice? Stealing rice seed for China? Isn’t that a little like bringing snow to the North Pole? I would guess that they have plenty of rice seed in China.”
The Admiral said. “You might think that, and that’s the important part I’m coming to. Yes, the Chinese are the world’s biggest producers of rice, but they’re also the world’s greatest consumers. Over the last few years, they haven’t been able to grow enough of it to be comfortably assured that they’ll have enough for their domestic consumption. They are now big rice importers, mostly from other countries in southeast Asia. They also have other problems. The provinces that are the rice bowl of the country are being taken over by residential and industrial development. The clean water supply there is always a little tenuous depending on the rain, and they’ve even found cadmium contamination in their rice, not that anyone will talk about that. Their government is always nervous that their domestic rice production will actually decline. The Peoples Liberation Army hates the idea of China being forced to import food. The U.S. could
supply all their grain needs—rice, corn, and wheat—but the PLA doesn’t want to rely on us.“
“I can certainly understand that,” Franco said thoughtfully. “How is this stolen seed going to help them with their production issues?”
“This seed is a super strain of rice that increases the rice yield per unit of planted land. It might also make marginal growing areas more productive. This rice is quite different from the usual strain and its properties were discovered completely by accident. Let me explain.”
The Admiral took a sip of water before speaking again.
“Rice is truly a source of protein. Its protein content is about eight percent. We don’t think of rice much beyond its carbohydrates because in the west, we have other sources of protein. Anyway, people have been playing around with rice genetics for years trying to increase the grain’s protein content, or to make the plants drought resistant, or to increase the yield. Well, a U.S. company hit the jackpot in the rice modification game and they did it while trying to do something unrelated.”
The Admiral continued, “A group of plant scientists from Houston was playing around with these rice genes to make a very specific protein. They wanted to use rice to make a protein for pharmaceutical purposes. Interestingly, they didn’t have the patent on the medicine; a New York based biotech company had that. They reviewed the protein’s structure in the inventor’s patents and with genetic modifications, engineered their rice plants to make it. The rice guys in Houston decided they could be the lowest cost manufacturer so that when the medicine was a big success, the originator company would want to come to them. Their idea was to grow this rice, mash it up, and pull out this protein from the mix. It would be a very low cost production method. It turned out they succeeded in doing this and they wanted to scale up production rapidly in facilities outside of their laboratories. They planted a lot of this stuff in Hawaii on Kauai.”
The Rice Thieves Page 3
