Donaldson was targeted is still a mystery.”
“Why was Donaldson in Hong Kong?”
“I’ll get to that in a moment. You know about the two Red Chinese officials who were assassinated?” she asked.
Bond remembered. “Oh, yes. That was a few days later, wasn’t it?”
“The 13th.”
“Yes, ma’am, two officials from Beijing were killed in a shopping mall by a man dressed in a military uniform.”
“A British army uniform, to be exact. The two men were working with the local government on last-minute preparations for the changeover. They had taken some time off and were buying souvenirs or something to take back to China. Some loose cannon in uniform calmly walked up to the men, pulled out an automatic pistol, and shot them dead. Witnesses said the “officer” ran out of the store and disappeared into the crowd. All we know is that the man was certainly Caucasian.”
“There’s been a lot of tension over the past year. People have been waking up to what’s happening to them,” Bond said. “It had to come to a head eventually.”
“ ‘Waking up’ is only the half of it,” M said. “People are starting to panic. Something else happened in Hong Kong two nights ago that has escalated the problem.”
“What’s that?”
“A bomb exploded on a floating restaurant off Aberdeen, killing thirty-three people. All of them were important members of the British business community in Hong Kong.”
This was news to Bond.
“The report is probably on your desk. The first incident was disturbing, the second one was bewildering, but this third one has caused the PM to sit up and take notice. Something’s going on, 007, and it isn’t pretty. Fingers are pointing. There was another anonymous call to Government House the morning after the bombing.”
“China.”
“Right.”
“That’s it? Just ‘the People’s Republic of China?’ Nothing more specific?”
“There were allusions to some general in Guangzhou, north of the Hong Kong colony. His name is Wong. It was enough to get the rumour mill churning. The press got hold of it, and needless to say there is a lot of tension in the air. Anti-Communist groups are making themselves heard, and the democracy foes are just as loud. The PM has been talking with Beijing …”
“But the official party line denies all knowledge of the actions?”
“Correct, 007. And they are just as quick to accuse us of killing their two officials in the shopping mall.”
“Sounds like someone is stirring up trouble just before the takeover.”
“Well, there’s going to
“Isn’t this a job for the politicians?”
“Normally it would be,” M said. “But something else has come up that interests me.”
She waited until Bond asked, “And what is that, ma’am?” The new M tended to have a flair for the dramatic.
“The three incidents—the car bomb that killed Donaldson, the assassination of the two Chinese men, and the bombing of the floating restaurant—are all connected to a multi-billion dollar international shipping and trading corporation that is privately owned and operated by a long-established British family in Hong Kong.”
FOUR
M PRESSED SOME BUTTONS ON A CONTROL PANEL TO HER RIGHT. THE ROOM darkened slightly and the Kandinsky painting slid up into the ceiling. A television monitor built into the wall flashed on, revealing the logo: EurAsia Enterprises Ltd.
“EurAsia Enterprises is one of the biggest shipping corporations operating out of Hong Kong,” M said. “You’ll find all the background you need in this file.” She gestured to a manilla folder on the edge of her desk. “Briefly, I’ll give you some of the details.”
Bond took the folder but didn’t open it. He gave his full attention to M.
“The company was founded in 1850, just a few years after Hong Kong was ceded to Britain at the close of the so-called First Opium War. How much do you remember about British colonial history, 007?”
Bond cleared his throat. “In a nutshell, the war resulted from China’s refusal to open ports to the West. I believe the catalyst was an incident in which the Chinese government in Canton seized a tremendous amount of opium from British traders and destroyed it.”
“Twenty thousand pounds, to be precise,” M added. “At the time, it was worth three million sterling. Opium trading was a ghastly business, but in the early nineteenth century opium was the world’s most valuable commodity. Be that as it may, the crux of the problem was as you said—China didn’t want to trade with the West. They had reluctantly allowed Canton—they call it Guangzhou now, as you know—and Macau to become the only ports open to the West. Our East India Company had a monopoly in Guangzhou until the 1830s, but the demand for Chinese tea, as well as silk and porcelain, was overwhelming.”
“It wasn’t easy for the traders,” Bond said. “I seem to remember that they were restricted to the fringes of the city, not allowed inside …”
“That’s right,” M said. “And all business had to go through the Cohong, a guild of Chinese merchants. Corruption flourished, and these constraints encouraged dreams of a base on the southeast coast of China where traders could operate freely. There was a trade imbalance and it greatly favoured China. The balance of trade in tea alone ran six to one in China’s favour. They didn’t particularly care for anything we had to offer, except silver, perhaps. China was under the impression that she didn’t need us.”
“And that’s where the opium trade came in …”
“Precisely. The traders discovered that there was a certain faction in China that desired Indian opium, and we were in the dubious position of being able to offer it. That was how several of our largest companies came into existence over there. In retrospect, I suppose, it was a nasty business; but it suited the mercantile ethic of the time. Opium traders shrugged off these scruples and maintained that trade, and the missionaries that followed, would ultimately benefit China. Well, the Chinese government became increasingly concerned about opium. Justifiably—it was an extravagant habit that ruined minds and morals—and it caused the trade imbalance to tip in our favour. Finally, in 1839, the emperor ordered the governor of Hunan Province to go to Guangzhou and end the opium trade. The British Chief Superintendent of Trade, a man named Charles Elliot, was ordered to surrender all of the merchants’ opium.”
“And he did.”
“That’s right, and the traders watched helplessly as the Chinese destroyed the opium that was the basis of their livelihood. One thing led to another, and skirmishes began. By 1840, an expeditionary fleet had arrived in Hong Kong with a mission to obtain compensation and an apology from China for the destroyed opium, and to secure a British foothold on the China coast.”
“It was rather a one-sided war, wasn’t it?” Bond asked rhetorically.
“Yes, China was ill-prepared to deal with Britain’s warships. It all came to a temporary end in 1841 with a treaty that was never signed. The treaty promised compensation for the confiscated opium, permission for British merchants to return to Guangzhou, and the cession of Hong Kong Island to Britain. Neither side was happy with this outcome and the war continued into 1842, when the Treaty of Nanjing was finally signed and reluctantly accepted by China. The result was a hefty compensation in millions of pounds, as well as the opening of several ports to British trade.”
