actually be turned over to me, or even that it still exists?”
“We’re not fools either. If we attempted such a deception, you’d indeed hunt us down. But you’re not a criminal who succeeds by fear. Once you have the manifest and we’re gone, your incentive to kill us will be far less. In fact, probably not worth the money, time, and trouble. Bad money after good, as they say.” “That’d require considerable thought.”
“Again, what does it matter? You have to do it.”
“Where would this exchange take place?”
“At the site of the Sleeping Buddha near Dazu. That’s in Sichuan Province.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow at dawn.”
“You’re in Dazu now?”
“Did you think I’d tell you so easily? Where we are is unimportant.
You’re undoubtedly having this call traced and will soon know anyway.
Develop patience. It’s a characteristic of the East that the West should adopt.”
Mcdermid needed to stall. First, to play Feng the tape and make sure these people were whom they claimed. Second, if they were bona fide, to give Feng a chance to find and eliminate them before any meeting. “Do you know what time it is, madame? If you’re as smart as you say, and if your husband truly is Yu Yongfu, then you’ll know I can’t possibly put together two million American dollars in cash and get to Dazu from Hong Kong so quickly. In addition, I’ll need to confirm your story with Feng.” There was what sounded like whispered consultation. These people were less assured than they sounded.
“You’ll come yourself? To China?” she asked.
He did not plan any such thing. “Madame, you can’t know Feng Dun very well if you think I’d trust him with two million dollars in cash.”
A momentary silence. “Very well. Two million dollars in cash, new identity papers, travel papers, and an exit visa. The Sleeping Buddha at dawn the day after tomorrow.” She hung up.
Lawrence popped his head around the door. He was grinning. “Got them.
They’re in Urumqi.”
It was deep into the night, and the marina on the Anacostia was mostly deserted. In his cloistered office, Fred Klein looked up at his ship’s clock for the tenth time in the last hour. He made a quick calculation: Midnight here would be noon tomorrow in Hong Kong.
Where the devil was Jon? He rocked in his desk chair, restless despite his exhaustion. From his years of experience, he knew there could be a thousand possible explanations for Jon’s disappearance — anything from clogged traffic to a subway breakdown or some bizarre natural occurrence. There was also the possibility that Jon had been discovered and shot to death. He did not want to think about it, but he could not stop himself.
He looked at the clock again. Where … His phone rang. The blue phone on the shelf behind his desk. Klein grabbed it. “Jon …?”
“I’m not Jon. I hope he’s not missing, whoever he may be.”
“Sorry, Viktor.”
Klein tried to keep the disappointment from his voice. He refocused.
Viktor Agajemian was a former Soviet hydraulics engineer, now officially Armenian but still living and working in Moscow. His firm was helping to build the mammoth Yangtze Gorges Dam project, and he had papers to travel anywhere in China. He was also one of Klein’s first recruits to perform occasional tasks for Covert-One in Asia, particularly in China.
“You made contact?” Klein asked.
“I did. Chiavelli says, and I quote, ‘ prisoner appears authentic.
Physical condition is good. General area rural, infrastructure bad, military installations few and scattered, and airfields primitive.
Potential resistance average-to-minimal. Estimated time: ten to twenty minutes, total. Escape is promising.’ That’s it, Fred. You planning to break the old boy out?”
“What do you think about an operation like that?”
“From what I saw, Captain Chiavelli may be right. On the other hand, I didn’t actually see the prisoner.”
“Thanks, Viktor.”
“Anytime. The money will arrive in the usual manner?” “You’d be told of any change.” Klein’s mind was already back on Jon Smith.
“Sorry to be crass, but times are not the best in Russia or Armenia.”
“I understand, Viktor, and thank you. You are, as always, the professional in everything.” Klein hung up, thinking that they might possibly have to use Captain Chiavelli’s report if … Where the devil was Jon?
He studied the clock. At last, he took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes, and sat staring at the blue telephone, willing it to ring.
In the CIA safe house, Jon turned on his heel. “I have to go.”
“Whoa, soldier,” Randi said. “You go nowhere until you tell us what this is all about.” Jon hesitated. If he did not explain, they would report to Langley and start digging. But how much could he reveal without disclosing everything? Not much, and this time there was no clever story to throw them off track. The resurrected wife of Yu Yongfu had supplied too many details, including the freighter’s illegal haul. He could say nothing more without hinting at what Li Kuonyi had not described — his mission.
“All right, I’ll level with you,” he said, “but I can’t reveal exactly what’s going on. The need-to-know is off the scale, and I have my orders. But I can tell you this much: I’m working for the White House.
They sent me because I happened to be in Taiwan at a scientific meeting and had the opportunity to get into China right away. It was a matter of convenience for them. The woman you just heard is the wife of someone who’s vital to the situation. Both she and her husband had disappeared.
We’d heard nothing about his being dead. I’ve got to get this new information to my chief immediately.”
“What was all that about a ship and a manifest?” Randi wanted to know.
“That’s what I can’t tell you.”
Randi stared into his eyes, searching for deception, but this time she could find none — just worry, which worried her. “Does what you’re working on have any connection to leaks of information from the White House?”
“Leaks? Is that your assignment? Is that why you’ve been following Mcdermid?”
“Yes. Your operation turned up Mcdermid, too?”
“Yeah,” Jon said. “I’ve got a lot to report.”
“I’d say we both do.”
Tommie, who had left the room, rushed back inside, swearing. “We were tailed. If you’re thinking of leaving, Jon, you’d better go out the side way, through the next building and the next. That will put you on a cross street.”
“Who is it?”
“Feng Dun and his people. They’re watching the street and the alley. The only good thing is they don’t seem to know exactly where we are.”
“Is that exit clear?” Jon asked. No safe house could exist unless it had two or three ways to escape.
“Not yet. You’d better wait.”
“You have a back room I can borrow? I need to report in.” Randi said witheringly, “You sure you want to risk it? The room might be bugged. We might hear something.”
Jon did not like keeping her in the dark any more than she liked being in it. He looked around at the CIA agents and offered his most ingenuous smile. “I trust all of you. Hell, you saved my butt. And I sure do appreciate the doctor and the food and the help getting out of here.
With luck, I’ll be able to return the favor.”
Randi glowered and shook her head. At last she heaved a dramatic sigh.
