remaining in Zhuhai to watch the Taiwanese deployment in the strait, claiming it was more significant than usual. Now he could add to that the curious arrival of Director Chou, who was also supposed to be at the launch. The general would tell the prime minister that he was analyzing the data with the help of the Guoanbu.
Tam Li left the room with long, bold strides and entered a corridor that connected his office with the rest of the officers’ compound. The morning light was coming over the strait in strong yellow splashes. The pale green carpet of the hallway looked like solid amber. The general did not notice the salutes of his command as he passed. His eyes were on an office ahead, the headquarters of the strategic planning officer, Colonel Hark. He entered without knocking. The tall, lean Hark was standing at an electronic table with four other officers. The men all turned and saluted smartly as the general entered. He returned the salute perfunctorily and stood beside the table. A map of the region was being projected from below. Electronic blips on top showed the position of every commercial plane and ship in the area.
“What is our status?” Tam Li demanded.
“The forward aerial strike force is thirty-five percent deployed,” the colonel replied. “The naval task force is nearly twenty-five percent deployed. Everything is precisely on schedule.”
“I want our forces boosted to fifty percent — full deployment within the hour,” Tam Li ordered.
Hark regarded the general with open surprise. The other officers remained at attention.
“General, the Americans will see it on satellite,” Hark pointed out. “They will suspect we are sending out more than a routine patrol.”
“Thank you, Colonel. That had occurred to me.”
“Sir, with respect, we all agreed that the main deployment should coincide with the situation at the launch —”
“Circumstances have changed significantly,” Tam Li told him. “I want us to be seen.”
There was a short silence. “May I ask why, sir?”
“Chou Shin is on the way to the base. I am going to have him detained. If he suspects what we are doing, he will try to stop us. We need to maneuver events to a point where they cannot be stopped.”
“Even if we are perceived as an aggressor?”
“Taiwan military vessels are in the water, and their warplanes in the skies,” the general replied. “All of them are headed toward our shores. We need no other justification to field a defense force.”
“Perhaps, sir. But we have never responded before in this situation. The attack on the rocket and Taiwan’s opportunistic deployment was going to justify our own sudden and confrontational move—”
“Colonel, what is Directive Two forty-one?”
“ ‘Taiwan is an integral part of China,’ ” the colonel replied.
“Directive Two forty-two?”
“ ‘It is an inviolable mission of the entire Chinese people to reunify the motherland,’ ” recited Hark.
“And Directive Two forty-six?”
“ ‘The sooner we settle the question of Taiwan, the better it is,’ ” the colonel declared.
“You understand the goal. With that in mind, what command would you issue if our ports and airfields were about to come under attack?” the general asked.
“I would simultaneously move and deploy our equipment, sir.”
“Just so,” Tam Li said. “We are under attack from ideological enemies at home. They may seek to confiscate our assets while they are in one place. We cannot allow that. Get our forces off the ground and out of the docks as soon as possible. They will not engage Taiwan. Not yet. Nothing else has changed. The rocket will be destroyed as planned. Our ships and planes will simply be closer to the enemy than we had planned. In a way, this helps us.”
“How so?”
“Instead of hunting him down later, we will have already arrested the man who was responsible for the destruction of the rocket,” Tam Li told him. “There is one thing more I want.”
“Sir?”
“Have the white unit meet me in Hangar Three,” he said.
FORTY-SIX
The standard Boeing 737–800 landed gently on the long military runway. The pilot reversed the engines and turned toward the terminal complex, a series of low-lying gray buildings at the hub of four radial airstrips. A number of aircraft were moving from hangars toward the different jet ways. There was no question about where to go: General Tam Li had dispatched an honor guard.
Chou Shin was not surprised. It had been necessary for them to circle the field before they were given clearance to land. Obviously, the general was doing something here he did not want others to know about. Chou had used his wireless laptop to track the general’s actions as best as he could during the flight. According to on-site and satellite data collected by the Guoanbu, Taiwan had continued its limited deployment while Tam Li had accelerated his. That would have to be stopped, and quickly. The only way to do that was for Chou to witness the commander’s activities firsthand and report them to the prime minister.
The intelligence director went to the front of the plane as it neared the building. The pilot did not so much finish taxiing as stop. There was no staircase or tunnel by which to exit.
Chou Shin waited until the engines had stopped. “Open the door,” the director told his aide.
The young man bowed slightly, then turned and unlocked the cabin door. Chou stood in the oily heat of the open hatch.
“Who is in command here?” the director asked. He spoke softly to show that he was unconcerned and to make them come to him.
A lieutenant stepped up smartly. “I am in charge of these units.”
“Have them bring us a stairwell,” Chou said.
“Our orders are that you shall remain on the aircraft.”
“Orders from whom?”
“The Security Detachment Office,” the lieutenant replied. “The base is under a condition red alert. Your plane should not even have been permitted to land.”
“Why was it, then?”
“The base commander has override authority,” the lieutenant informed him.
“Your orders are treasonous,” Chou informed him. “We will deploy the emergency exit equipment if we must, but I will leave this aircraft, and I will see base commander General Tam Li.”
“Condition red dictates that we stop any member of your party who attempts to leave the aircraft.”
“You would shoot the director of the Guoanbu?” Chou demanded.
“We would detain you by any means necessary.”
Chou turned to the cockpit. The door was open. The pilots were still going through their postflight checklist. “Get me the minister of defense in Beijing,” he said.
“Sir, we tried communicating with the tower when we landed,” the pilot informed him. “Our radio signals are being blocked.”
Chou turned to his aide. “Cellular phones as well?”
The young man was holding his phone. He looked grim. “There are too many satellite dishes at the base. I cannot get a signal.”
“Will the tower be able to block our Internet uplink?”
“That is very unlikely,” the pilot answered. “Our airborne wireless operates on one point nine gigahertz, which is a privately used frequency. Unless the communications center knows exactly what that frequency is, they cannot block it. Not as long as we have direct line-of-sight access to the satellite.”
“Thank you very much, Captain,” the intelligence director said. He looked back through the door. He was perspiring slightly from the heat. Chou asked his aide for water. He did not want anyone to think he was afraid. As he drank, Chou was surprised to notice two men were approaching with a ladder.
