Ghost Recon

'As a matter of fact, I do.' They shook hands.

After sharing a few jokes, Entwhiler updated Mitchell with news regarding his personal and professional life. The details weren't as important as his tone. The guy was a nuclear reactor, and when he rolled off to say hi to a few other colleagues, Mitchell glanced over at Rutang, who just looked at him and nodded.

As the night wore on, and Mitchell was twice dragged onto the dance floor to jump and scream along to AC/ DC's 'Shook Me All Night Long,' he spotted a tall, slender woman with short blond hair seated alone in the back of the room. He'd never seen her before. The woman's black dress fit her like a coat of paint, and her simple pearl necklace seemed to rise up from the perfectly smooth planes of her neck.

Feeling bold and no pain, he drifted back to her. 'Hi, there.'

Her eyes lit on him. 'Hi.'

'Hi,' he repeated, then realized what he'd done.

'You're pretty friendly.'

'Uh, well, it's my party. You're alone?'

'Yes. And I've been waiting to talk to you.'

Mitchell grinned and turned back to his friends still on the dance floor. 'Oh, man, oh, man. Those guys put you up to this?'

'I'm not a prostitute — if that's what you think.'

'No, no, no, I meant—'

'What did you mean?'

He sighed. 'Look, I'm sorry I bothered you.'

She snorted. 'I said I wanted to talk to you. Have a seat.'

'Uh, okay.'

He sat and tried to keep his gaze from her cleavage. Mission failed.

'I'm here at the request of Lieutenant Colonel and General Keating.'

'Excuse me?'

She offered her hand. 'I'm Captain Susan Grey.'

He took her hand. 'Lieutenant, I mean Captain Scott Mitchell.'

She made a face. 'I know.'

'I drank a little too much. Sorry.'

'We've been watching you for a while, and we like what we see.'

He wanted to answer, So do I, but instead said, 'Who are you? And why have you crashed my promotion party?'

'Sorry about that. My schedule is incredibly tight, and this was the only opportunity I could find before I ship out tomorrow.'

'Where you headed?'

'Classified.'

'Sounds… pretty classified.'

'You're cute, Captain, but only half as witty. I'll cut right to the chase before your mouth gets you in any more trouble. You're a captain now, getting ready to lead an ODA team. Well, we've got something else in mind.'

'Again, who are you?'

'I'm sure you've never heard of us, and we prefer to keep it that way. We're D Company, First Battalion, Fifth Special Forces Group.'

'So you're just another company.'

'Mitchell, I think you'd be surprised over the differences between us and the average ODA team.'

'Oh, really? You guys saying you're better than us?'

'I already did.'

Mitchell grinned crookedly. 'Prove it.'

Grey stood, reached into her purse, and withdrew an envelope. 'We will. In here you'll find everything you need.'

'Are you making me an offer?'

'Enjoy the rest of your party. See you soon.' She wiggled her brows, then quickly left.

'Who was that?' asked Rutang, arriving at Mitchell's side.

'The most conceited woman I've ever met.'

'You get her number?'

Mitchell glanced down at the envelope. 'Sort of.'

EIGHT

OLYMPIC VILLAGE

BEIJING, CHINA

JULY 2008

People's Liberation Army Captain Xu Dingfa dropped his duffel bag in the apartment's entrance foyer, didn't bother closing the door, and collapsed onto one of the beds. He rubbed his eyes and ran fingers through his crew cut.

The elevator had been so crowded that Xu opted to hike up all six flights of stairs to the top floor of his building. As an Olympic gymnast and specialist on the rings and pommel horse, he possessed considerable upper body strength, but he had also worked hard to improve his legs, turning them into sinuous sticks of solid rock. Consequently, all those stairs should not have posed a problem. Yet even he was exhausted, in part from all the adrenaline and anticipation.

Xu was billeted in one of twenty such apartments constructed in the western part of the village dubbed the Residential Quarter, where another twenty buildings rose to nine floors. More than sixteen thousand athletes and officials were staying there, and Xu had encountered at least a half dozen languages within the first ten minutes of arrival.

In two weeks the opening ceremonies would commence, and until then all of the athletes could spend time training and familiarizing themselves with their new quarters — and their new roommates.

Xu's roommate had yet to arrive. The man was from Taiwan and competing on their shooting team, but that was all Xu knew about him.

Taiwan… Of all the countries his roommate could have been from…

Xu's first thought had been to seek a new room or at least swap rooms with one of his teammates, but in the spirit of the Olympic Games, he thought he would at least give the man a chance. Perhaps they could engage in some interesting political debates.

However, just mentioning Taiwan made Xu's breath grow shallow and his chest tighten. He would never forget the bitterness of his father and the lament of his mother as they spoke of the land they only referred to as Formosa.

He rose from the bed, went to the window, gazed down at the forest that stretched out between the buildings. Hundreds of people milled about down there, with knots of athletes and reporters conducting interviews on nearly every corner.

'Hello,' came a voice from the doorway.

'Oh, hello.'

A muscular man with short black hair and a fiery gaze stood in the doorway. He would have resembled any other Taiwanese man, were it not for those eyes.

Xu shifted to the man and offered a light handshake. 'You are Fang Zhi?'

'Yes, and you're Xu Dingfa.'

He nodded. 'This is our apartment.'

'Yes.'

Their exchange was cold, formal, and Xu hoped it might remain that way. Perhaps the less they said to each other, the better.