Fang shifted inside, noted the wrinkles on the bed Xu had chosen, then carefully moved to the other bed. 'I will sleep here?'
'Yes.'
'So you are in the army? So was I.'
Xu frowned. Why had Fang's tone lightened? First those eyes, which suggested he would be anything but friendly, and now an attempt at casual conversation?
'Fang. I must be honest. I was not happy to learn that I would be sharing a room with someone from—'
'I understand. But on the contrary, I was happy to learn I would be sharing a room with you.'
'You were?'
'Yes, you are a military officer for whom I have the utmost respect.'
Xu drew back his head in disbelief. 'I have only known you five minutes, and already you are an interesting man, full of surprises.'
Fang's eyes widened. 'Yes.'
For the next two weeks, Xu trained hard with his team and spent most of his free time with them. However, in the late evenings, when he returned to his room, he would find Fang sitting up in bed, reading Sun Tzu's
On the eve before the opening ceremonies, when Xu came home after a night of drinking a little too much, he found Fang, once again, sitting up and reading.
'Tomorrow the games begin — and you have done nothing to celebrate?'
Fang glanced up from his book. 'My celebration will come afterward.'
'You are that confident of a medal? The Taiwanese team has no reputation for victory. But the Chinese, well, we have done quite well for ourselves in the shooting events.'
'I was not referring to the games.' Fang set his book on his lap. 'Tell me something, Xu. You tolerate me, yes. But there is something more there. Hatred. Why is that?'
Xu took a seat on his bed. 'Do you know why I joined the army? The real reason? To liberate your country.'
'Why does that matter so much to you?'
'It simply does.'
'Would you be shocked to learn that I feel as you do?'
'As I said, you are full of surprises. But I am confused, hearing this from a former army officer such as yourself.'
'I did not resign from the military.'
'I see. And now you are angry with your country.'
'You have no idea.'
'Well, I am angry with your country, too.'
Yes, the alcohol, which he had been forbidden to drink by his coaches, had taken effect, and Xu felt quite loose with his tongue, so he decided to share the story.
'You see, Fang, my parents once lived in Taipei with my two sisters and one brother. They were outspoken Chinese sympathizers, and one night, during a massive sweep by the military, they were arrested and deported to China with no chance to take my sisters and brother with them.'
'So what happened?'
'My sisters and brother had to live with my uncles and aunts. My parents were forced to find work and live here in China, where I was born. For my entire life I have heard this story, and I have never met my siblings. But that is not as important as reuniting my parents with them. They are getting old now, and they want more than anything to be with their children — before they die.'
'And you thought joining the army would help? You are a dreamer! A fool!'
Xu bolted from the bed and seized Fang by the neck, tightening his grip. 'It will happen!'
'No, it never will. The Americans will always be in the way.'
Realizing what he was doing, Xu released Fang and tried to catch his breath. 'There will come a day. I promise you.'
Fang rubbed his neck a moment, then said, 'Maybe I am wrong, Xu. Maybe your parents will see their children again. And maybe… I can help you.'
Xu cocked a brow. 'Why?'
'As repayment for the help you will give me.'
'What help?'
Fang leaned in closer and lowered his voice, as though they were being watched. 'After the games, I am not going back to Taiwan.'
Xu's mouth opened. 'I see.'
'If you help me, I will do everything in my power to help you and your parents. You have my word.'
Xu took a deep breath. Perhaps it would not take much to help Fang. Perhaps if he did, Fang would become an ally for life, a fiercely loyal friend who would, indeed, help Xu attain his goal. How he would do that was not yet clear, but harnessing Fang's energy made Xu feel less like a victim and more like a warrior.
'Fang, I will have to think about this.'
'I understand. But it does seem we share a common goal.'
'Maybe. But I still do not trust you. Tell me what happened to you in the army.'
Fang closed his eyes and bared his teeth. 'We were working with the Filipino and American Special Forces teams. The Americans came up with a plan and marched us into the jungle to be slaughtered. I would not allow that to happen. And, for saving my men, for doing the honorable thing of rejecting an unconscionable order, I was rewarded with disgrace and discharge. My family name has been ruined. The news made my mother ill. She is near death. And now there is only one thing left to do.'
'Yes,' Xu answered slowly. 'I understand now. You are right. We do share a common goal.'
More than just firsthand knowledge, Fang had direct experience with American and allied Special Forces operations and tactics. This news excited Xu. Fang would be an easy sell to Xu's superiors, and Xu's aiding and abetting Fang's defection would be looked upon as a great deal, an asset to the cause. Perhaps Xu could even help Fang get a commission in the army.
Fang's audacious military cunning, fueled by unbridled hatred and an unquenchable thirst for revenge, would be welcomed by Xu's inner circle of friends, men who thought like him that they must 'inspire' the government and military to act more swiftly, more aggressively.
'Yes,' Xu confided to Fang. 'A select group of my peers has need of a man with your knowledge and talents. You will not be leaving China.'
NINE
Captain Scott Mitchell, Ghost Team leader, lay prone on a ridgeline approximately fifty meters south of three mud-brick houses standing in sharp relief against a frozen hilltop. Smoke wafted from stone chimneys and fluttered like pennons before dissolving into the night air.
Somewhere in the valley below, within the snow-covered alleys between dozens more homes, a dog howled and firelight flickered from more windows. Then… it grew eerily quiet.
Up ahead, Staff Sergeant Joe Ramirez and Sergeant Marcus Brown shifted furtively toward the houses, following a gully that ran up near a lone, leafless tree.
Sergeant Alicia Diaz, the team's marksman, had darted off west toward the opposite hill overlooking the houses to select her sniper's perch.
