took him to his point of extraction. The stupid police never suspected. They smiled and laughed at the Uighers, and then they let them pass. Imbeciles.”
“Can you identify the Uighers?”
“We were never close enough, but they knew the city and countryside well. Then American SEALs appeared and enabled their escape.”
Wei Gaofan nodded, pleased. “A submarine. That means the Americans are very concerned about risking an incident. We are succeeding. You have done well.”
Feng Dun inclined his head, acknowledging the compliment, but smarting because he had not been offered the polite gesture of sharing tea.
Still, the time to bring up his rewards would come later, when Wei Gaofan assumed his greater role in the destiny of China.
“The manifest is destroyed?” Wei continued.
“Burned.”
“You are sure?”
“I was there with Yu Yongfu when he burned it before taking his gun and driving away,” Feng said. “Of course I followed.”
“The police have found no corpse.”
“They may never find it.”
“You saw him kill himself? With your own eyes?”
“Which is why I followed. And then he fell into the Yangtze. He wanted it that way.”
Wei Gaofan smiled again. “We have nothing left to worry us, while the Americans have much to worry them. Would you care for a cup of tea, Feng?”
PART TWO
Chapter Fourteen
On the gray ocean, the guided missile frigate USS John Crowe slipped into its assigned station. The water was placid, with a gentle southwest swell and a following sea. Dawn glowed low across the sky behind them, while to the west, night still reigned, dark and unfathomable. Radar had raised the Crowe’s quarry, The Dowager Empress, an hour ago, but the suspect ship was still invisible in the night ahead.
On the Crowe’s bridge, Commander James S. Chervenko focused his binoculars on the black horizon and saw nothing. Square and muscular, he had a rugged face with eyes permanently narrowed from years of sea duty.
He spoke to his exec, It. Commander Frank Bienas. “Any indication she’s not alone, Frank?”
“Nothing on radar or sonar,” Bienas reported. Bienas had the fluid grace of a boxer. Young, smart, and handsome, he was something of a ladies’ man.
“Okay. When it’s light enough to see the freighter, drop back and track by radar alone. I’ll be in my quarters.”
“Yes, sir.”
The commander left the bridge, working his way below. Admiral Brose had impressed on him the importance of this mission, but he needed no one, admiral or anyone else, to do that. He was well aware of the Yinhe incident. Today, with China stronger, more stable, and more important to the state of the world, the situation was all the more treacherous. At the same time, allowing Iraq to create a new batch of biological and chemical weapons was no option either.
Once in his quarters, Commander Chervenko opened direct communication with Admiral Brose, as ordered, bypassing task force and fleet HQs.
“Commander Chervenko reporting the USS Crowe on station, sir.”
“Good, Commander.” The admiral sounded as if he had been pulled from his dinner table in Washington, where it was still Thursday night. “How’s it look?”
“Routine so far. Radar shows no other vessels, surface or submerged, in the area, and not a peep out of their radio. As soon as it’s light, we’ll drop back and rely on radar contact.”
“Keep monitoring their transmissions and receptions. You have a Chinese interpreter aboard?”
“Yessir.”
“All right, Commander. Jim, is it?”
“Jim, yessir.”
“Keep me posted on anything that happens out there, the instant it happens, short of endangering the operation or your ship. Anything, you understand?”
“Aye-aye, sir.”
“Good to have you aboard on this, Jim.”
“Thank you, sir.”
The transmission over, Commander Chervenko leaned back in his desk chair, his gaze focused on the ceiling of his quarters. This was not the kind of bombshell mission that usually fell to the lot of a frigate commander. He could see a hell of a lot of risk involved, right down to a live engagement that could cost him his ship. He could also see opportunity. In the navy, there were no higher stakes than those that threatened an officer’s vessel in combat. And success in the face of high risk was what could make a career. Or break one.
The pulsing power of the carrier’s giant engines reverberated through the hull and into Jon’s bones. The sounds and sensations were soothing as he waited in his temporary quarters for the call to Fred Klein to go through to the yacht club back in Washington. He knew Klein’s habits.
Dinner — if Klein remembered to eat that night — was usually in his cluttered office there, despite the late hour.
The submarine had ferried him to the carrier, which had been running dark north of Taiwan, surrounded by escort vessels. Jon had the distinct impression the captain and the fleet admiral considered being ordered to extract an undercover agent a waste of time for their mighty ship. After a cup of coffee with the lieutenant commander, who had been sent to escort him, he was shown straight to his makeshift quarters. He showered, shaved, and asked to make a call.
As he waited, he thought about the Uighers, especially Alani. He hoped they had escaped safely. When the phone rang, he snatched it up.
“You got out in one piece, Colonel?” Fred Klein’s unemotional voice was somehow reassuring.
“Thanks to you, the U.S. Navy, and some local help.” He related his escape, from the moment he had ended his call to Klein at the Peace Hotel. “The Uighers want independence from China, but they seem to have no illusions that it’s going to happen anytime soon. They’d settle for being able to keep their identity and culture. President Castilla’s human-rights treaty might help them do that. Or at least lead to it eventually.”
“One more reason to concentrate on getting that agreement signed,” Klein said. “So Asgar Mahmout was Mondragon’s asset?”
“Thought you’d like to know.”
“You’re right. Any change with regard to the manifest?”
“It’s probably destroyed by now, if they’re smart. That copy, at least.”
“I agree.” Jon could hear Klein puffing on his pipe in the distant office. “Yet you think they tracked you to that beach with the Uighers.
If they destroyed the manifest, why would they also want to eliminate you? That seems like overkill. Certainly an unnecessary risk. Are you sure your attackers weren’t police or state security?”
“As sure as I can be.”
