“I never thought I would see the day, General Zu,” Tang breathed. “A military coup by a Chinese general, right in the office of the president, before my very eyes!”
“Did you expect me to roll tanks down the streets, Minister?” Zu asked. “Storm the Politburo? Take over the airwaves and announce a military takeover? This is China, sir, not some third-world banana dictatorship. Decide whose side you are on, Minister.”
“Death, or joining your coup, General?” Zu said nothing, but looked directly at Tang, waiting. Tang took a deep breath as if he had stopped breathing a long time ago. “I swore an oath to protect and defend the people, the nation, and the Party . . .” he said finally, then added, “ . . . no matter whom the president is, or who may really be running the government.”
“Not exactly a ringing endorsement, Tang, but I was not expecting anything more,” Zu said dismissively. “But be warned: speak of this to anyone, and your term in office will be terminated even faster than Zhou’s. You are dismissed.” Tang looked extremely relieved to be leaving that office.
“Do you trust him, General?” Gao asked.
“Not in the least—but I trust
“I want to be on the winning side, that is all,” Gao said, “and I believe the military is the winning side. And I agree it is time for China to step forward and take her place as the true leader of the world. The old men in our government like Zhou would be content to wait another thousand years while the bureaucrats and industrialists sucked the country dry. Only the military can set China on its proper course.”
“You say all the right words, Gao,” Zu said, “but your words do not mean anything to me—it will be your actions that decide your fate. Act the part and do as I say, and you will have a smooth and uneventful time as acting president. Betray me, and you will suffer a far worse fate than Zhou. Now return to your office, draft a statement to the Politburo and Central Military Commission as quickly as possible, see to it that I get it right away, and then prepare to deliver it. You are dismissed.”
General Sun Ji returned just as Gao was leaving. “Zhou is en route to the facility,” he reported. “He put up quite a fight for an old man before he was administered the sedative.”
“The last struggles of a tired old man,” Zu said. He looked at his watch. “Schedule a meeting with the general staff for two hours from now.”
“Yes, sir,” Sun said. “I do not think we will have any trouble with them. None were particularly loyal to Zhou.”
“I am not worried about the general staff or the Central Military Commission, Ji—I am worried about the Politburo whipping up the people,” Zu admitted. “That is why Gao must play the role of acting president long enough for us to cement our takeover. We will need to prepare the army, independent and local infantry divisions, border guards, and reserves to respond in case the Politburo tries to stir up trouble. And in case we get any trouble from foreign countries when we exert our claims to Nansha and Xisha Dao, we will need a mobilization plan to deploy the navy and marines quickly to both archipelagos.”
“I am sure Admiral Zhen has such a plan prepared, sir,” Sun said. “And I think he will be very happy to see it put into place.”
STEAD AIRPORT, RENO, NEVADA
A WEEK LATER
“It’s a real pleasure to have you here, Brad, a real pleasure,” boomed Thomas Hoffman. The tall, hulking owner of Warbirds Forever Inc. was carrying a duffel bag for Bradley as they made their way through an immense hangar filled with planes of every description, carefully parked to maximize floor space without creating a hazard. It was just after sunset, and Patrick had just dropped Bradley off in the turbine P210 Centurion. “Sorry you got here so late—I wanted to show you around and get started on some paperwork.”
“I didn’t mean to be so late, sir,” Bradley said. “The guys at Sky Masters threw a little going-away party for me after closing, and I put in a full day at Sky Masters before the surprise party, so it was a really long day. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all, not at all,” Hoffman said pleasantly. “You have a little homework to do before your day starts, and it’ll be a busy day tomorrow. We should have a little time tomorrow to show you around, but I think you’ll be pretty busy.”
“Thank you, sir,” Brad said. He looked around the hangar in sheer wonderment. The floor was incredibly clean—it even looked polished enough that the overhead lights reflected off it—and painted with light gray petroleum-proof paint. There were about a dozen large wheeled toolboxes, decorated with every possible sticker, patch, and photograph, but it was all tastefully and professionally done. This had to be the cleanest and most well- organized workshop he had ever seen, he thought.
But the really amazing sight was the planes: Some were in various stages of repair; others looked brand new. There was everything from large bizjets to single-engine two-passenger light-sport airplanes . . . and warbirds. Brad was not a real warbird fan, but he recognized a few from World War Two, Korean War, and Vietnam War movies, and most looked as if they had just come off the assembly line. “Man, I don’t even recognize some of these jets,” he said.
“You’ll become very familiar with all of them and probably get type rated in a few of the more popular warbirds,” Hoffman said. He nodded to one of the showroom-quality planes. “That’s one of our favorites: an Aero L-39 Albatros. This one was from Romania. For a fraction of what any other single-engine jet costs, guys can pick one out and have it dismantled and shipped here from Eastern Europe. We check them over, rebuild them, paint them, train the owner, and they’ve got themselves a real nice jet that’s easy to fly and relatively inexpensive to fly and maintain. A lot of guys race them at the Reno Air Races.” He nodded to his right. “There’s the avionics shop, my office, the publications room, and the employee break room. Down that corridor are the company offices. The customer welcome area, pilot store, and Accounting are on the other side of the hangar.”
They made their way through the crowded hangar, through a dimly lit corridor, and past several rooms until they came to a door almost in the middle. “I didn’t want to put you at either end of the hallway, Brad, because of the smell from the main hangar on one end and the smell from the paint shop and composite layup shop on the other,” Hoffman said. “I don’t think you’ll notice the smells from either side, but if you do, let me know and we’ll figure something else out. You can even stay at my place until we get better digs. I have a spare bedroom available, when the grandkids aren’t using it.” He nodded down the hallway. “The employee locker room and bathroom is three doors down—I hope you brought towels, because I forgot to bring any.” He opened the door. “Here you go.”
The room was large, but the usable area was very small because the place was choked with boxes, tires, shelving, a large workbench, and aircraft parts stacked to the ceiling. Along one wall was a single bed with spring- and-wire foundation with a roll of thick foam material, linens, and a pillow atop it; next to it was a two-drawer dresser. The room was lit by a single bare bulb affixed to an ancient-looking ceiling fan. There was a simple folding-table desk on the other side of the bed with a desk lamp and power strip.
“I know it’s not the Ritz, Brad, but until we figure something else out, it’s the best I can do,” Hoffman said. “At least you can’t beat the price.”
“I’m sure it will be fine, sir,” Brad said, trying to sound cheerful.
“I don’t think you’ll be bothered by any smells in here from the tires and whatnot,” Hoffman said, “but if you are, let me know. Now, this is still a storeroom, so the other employees will have access to it between seven A.M. and five P.M. or so, so plan on being up and around by then. They won’t mess with your stuff, but just in case someone doesn’t get the word that I will squish them like a bug if they so much as look at your stuff, I’d secure your laptop in your locker.”
“Yes, sir.”
“The office manager, Rosetta, brings donuts and makes coffee for the employees at seven A.M. in the employee break room, but the donuts disappear pretty fast, so be warned,” Hoffman said. He nodded at the desk. “There’s a slip of paper there with the access code to the wireless router for your laptop, and a temporary user name and password to the company’s employee site and calendar. Take a look at your calendar, the linesman course, and the employee handbook online before we get started tomorrow morning. We do most of our internal
