The attache introduced him to another British citizen, Colonel Greene, who smiled benignly. Chen Lee turned and began to survey the crowd. Greene attempted to start a conversation by saying that the politics in the country had entered a difficult stage.
“Yes,” said Chen Lee. It was necessary to be polite, but he did not want to encourage the foreigner.
“A shame so many people do not realize the danger of the situation,” said Greene.
Chen Lee turned and looked at the colonel. He was dressed in civilian clothes, so it was impossible to tell if the title was honorary or not. The British seemed to be so overrun with retired colonels that they were exporting them to Asia by the planeload.
“Even the Americans seem blinded by the talk of peace,” said Greene.
“The Americans have been allies for a long time,” said Kuan. She had accompanied her grandfather to enough occasions such as this that she knew he wanted the foreigner drawn out.
“The Americans are endorsing the meeting in Beijing, and doing everything to keep it on schedule,” said Greene.
“And how is that?” asked Kuan.
“They’ve told the communist pigs they were not responsible for the shooting down of the rescue aircraft in the South China Sea. They claim to be investigating and will present evidence that it was someone else. There are various rumors.”
Kuan glanced at her grandfather. He did nothing — which she knew was a signal to continue.
“What sort of rumors?” she asked.
“The initial crash was an accident, yes,” said Greene. “But the other plane — it seems doubtful.”
“Who would have been involved?”
“Not Taiwan, I would think.”
“We are not aggressors.”
“Of course not.”
“You are very well informed, Colonel Greene,” Chen Lee said.
The colonel smiled. It was obvious now that he was part of British intelligence, though Chen Lee had never heard of him before.
“I am not so well informed as I would hope,” said Greene. “But one hears rumors and has questions. And I for one would never trust the communists.”
“Perhaps the British shot down the aircraft to disrupt the meeting in Beijing,” said Chen Lee, staring into the colonel’s eyes.
“Her Majesty’s government is in favor of the meeting. Unfortunately.”
Chen Lee smiled.
“So who would want to disrupt it?”
“It’s not so much a question of whom,” said the colonel, “but how. The Americans were the only ones in the area, from what I’ve heard.”
“Then perhaps the Americans are better allies than I’ve been led to believe,” said the old man.
“The material could have been a byproduct from any chip manufacturing process,” Rubeo told Stoner over the secure video link as the others looked on in the trailer. “You will need more proof.”
“I have people working on running down the ownership and digging through contracts,” said Stoner. “What’s important is that they could have made advanced chips there. These weren’t for VCRs.”
“Gallium arsenide is not wasted on entertainment applications.”
“A company owned by a man named Chen Lee was apparently behind the factory when it was set up,” said Stoner. “I’m looking into it right now, but I don’t know what if anything we can run down. Chen is one of the most common names in Taiwan.”
“Taiwan?” asked Rubeo.
“Yeah.”
“Chen Lee is a prominent businessman — he hates the communists.”
“They all do,” said Stoner.
“Yes.” The scientist scowled. “There’s a Taiwanese scientist who’s done considerable work on the mirroring system I believe was used in the intercepted transmissions. And he has a connection to Chen Lee, whom any Internet search will show is one of the most ardent anticommunists in Taiwan and a very rich, rich man.”
“Is the clone the scientist’s?”
“You’re the investigator, not me, Mr. Stoner. Doing your legwork is getting a little tiresome.”
“I’m sure it’s appreciated,” said Colonel Bastian.
“What’s the scientist’s name?” asked Stoner.
“Ai Hira Bai,” said Rubeo. “He has not taught anywhere, or shown up at a conference, or published a paper, in at least eighteen months, perhaps more.”
“Can you upload enough information for me to track him down?” said Stoner.
“Gladly.”
“Bottom line here, Doc,” said Colonel Bastian. “Could this Chen Lee guy build a Flighthawk?”
“It’s not a Flighthawk,” said Rubeo with pronounced disdain.
“Could Bai build something like we found?” asked Stoner.
“It depends entirely on his motivation and financing.”
“What about the government?” asked Zen.
“No. If it was a government thing, I’d know about it,” said Stoner. “Believe me. We’ve really checked into it. We’re plugged into the Taiwanese military.”
“I don’t see a private company, or a couple of individuals doing this,” said Alou. “What? Try to start a war between China and us? No way. Not without government backing.”
“Some things are easier without the government involved,” said Rubeo. “Much easier.”
Dog glanced at his watch as Stoner and the scientist traded a few more barbs as well as ideas on where the UAV might have been built. The Taiwan connection was the overwhelming favorite, so much so that Dog knew he had to tell Jed what was going on. The others, meanwhile, seemed as if they were ready to pack it in for the night.
“All right, I’ll tell you what,” said Dog, interrupting them, “let’s call it a day on this side. I’ll talk to the NSC and tell them what we think. Ray, you and your people keep working on the data. Stoner—”
“There’s a hundred people sifting the tea leaves back at Langley for us, Colonel,” said the officer, referring to CIA headquarters. “We’ll see if the NSA can come up with anything for us as well.”
“Good,” said Dog. “All right, let’s—”
“Colonel, I’d like a word in private,” said Rubeo before Dog could shut down the line.
“Well I’m out of here,” laughed Zen. The others followed him from the trailer.
“Just you and me now, Doc,” Dog said when they were gone. “What’s up?”
“Jennifer Gleason has submitted her resignation,” said Rubeo.
“She can’t do that,” said Dog.
“Well, she has a different opinion about that than you do.”
“She can’t leave,” insisted Dog.
“Her contract—” started Rubeo.
“I understand she’s not in uniform,” said Dog. “I mean, she can’t leave. We need her. And she’ll screw herself, her career, I mean—”
“None of those things seem to be considerations,” said Rubeo. “As I was starting to tell you, her contract states that she may return to teaching at any time with sixty days’ notice, and she’s submitted papers indicating that she wants to do that. It’s not a formal resignation, but it’s what she has to do to be in position to submit a formal resignation.”
“Damn it Ray. God damn it.”
Rubeo blinked at him. “Yes, Colonel. Damn it. Damn it all to hell.”
