by Brett Baker
“I don’t know about the rest of you,” Brown said, “but I get orders sometimes. Although they’re not framed as orders. It’s framed as information. I’ll get a dossier that contains information about something that’s going on, complete with names, places, events. Sometimes it’s clear what’s happening, and sometimes it’s not. But every time I get one of those I end up checking it out. Someone thought enough to send it to me, whether it’s someone with The Summit, or Polestar, or an informant, or whatever. If it piques my interest, the least I can do is dig a little deeper. And once we start digging we don’t stop.”
“What’s Polestar?” Randy asked.
“It’s the information side of the operation. The intelligence,” Brown said. “If we’re on a mission and we have questions we can contact Polestar and usually find the answer.”
Mia added, “It also works the other way though. Sometimes we have to feed information to Polestar. After every mission we’re debriefed by someone from Polestar and everything we know goes into their operation. They’ve got tentacles all over the world, near and far. They’re the backbone of The Summit. There’s no way that The Summit could exist without Polestar.”
Randy nodded, sat back in his chair and looked at Mia and the three men. He took a deep breath, trying process everything Mia said.
“Anything else?” Mia asked.
“You tell me. Is that it? I’m sure there’s more to it.”
“It’s simple in its complexity. Once you accept that you’re better off not asking questions about The Summit, it’s easy to operate within it. It works. That’s all you need to know. That’s all any of us need to know. If we spent too much time analyzing it, or asking questions about how they gathered this or that information, or how they can locate us anywhere in the world at almost any time, we’d drive ourselves crazy. Best to do the job it enables us to do rather than ponder how it lets us do it.”
“Sounds almost like religion,” Randy said. “Blind faith. Don’t ask questions, just believe.”
“Even true believers doubt religion sometimes. No one doubts The Summit.”
Randy raised his eyebrows and nodded his understanding. “So where does this all come from?”
“What? The ship? The helicopter? I just told you, best not to ask questions.”
“No, the whole thing. How does a worldwide organization disconnected from any official entity fly under the radar of everything? I’ve never even heard anyone allude to something like this, and if anyone had the slightest inclination that you existed, I’m in a position to know.”
“We’ve been around a long time,” Mia said. “This isn’t anything new.”
“How long?”
“At least since May 10, 1940, if not longer.”
“May 10, 1940?” Mia nodded. Randy continued, “That’s when the Germans invaded France.” Mia continued to nod. “How does that lead to The Summit?”
“Not overnight,” Mia said. “De Gaulle led the French Resistance to the Nazis, but more symbolically than in practice. He couldn’t distribute orders across the country. He couldn’t communicate with every Frenchman who wanted to resist. He set the tone. And then the French citizens took matters into their own hands. They figured things out. They saw what needed to be done and then they did it. And they helped win the war. In the years following the war, many people in the Resistance remained active. Saw things they wanted to change and then changed them. Things just grew from there. They fought corruption in De Gaulle’s government. They helped the Algerians work to end French occupation. They united with some of the Chinese Resistance fighters, and things grew from there. By the time of the Prague Spring in 1968 the Resistance had permeated worldwide and had been known as The Summit for more than a decade. The rest is history. Unknown history, but history nonetheless.”
“Everyone knew about the French Resistance though,” Randy said. “It’s well-documented. How’d you go from that to this?”
“Like I said, not overnight,” Mia said. “Frankly, I don’t know all the history. It interesting, but I’m too busy making my own history to worry about what people did before me.”
“Fair enough,” Randy said. “I guess I’ll just have to accept that there are certain things that we’ll never know.”
“Wise move,” Mia said. “Now, if we’ve talked enough about The Summit, maybe we can move on.”
“We could spend weeks answering the questions I have.”
“We’ve talked enough about The Summit,” Mia insisted.
“For now,” Randy suggested.
Mia shrugged, unwilling to commit to an answer. Randy stood up, pushed his chair back, and took a deep breath as if about to speak. Mia interrupted him. “I hope you don’t think you’re leaving.”
“We’re on a ship in the middle of the ocean,” Randy said. “Where the hell do you think I’m going? I just need to stretch my legs.” Randy walked around the room, placed his hands against a wall, and began stretching his legs. Mia thought he was stalling, and was just about to tell him to come back to the table when he turned around, smiled, and said, “I guess it’s my turn.”
18
Chapter 18
Fabrice and Dian finished their meal at Shi Hui Tang and returned to Dian’s car. As he walked with Dian, Fabrice observed Dian’s connectedness first-hand. It seemed Dian knew every person they passed, and some of them stopped to talk to him, or greeted him with a smile. Dian spoke quickly, not that Fabrice would have understood him any better if he spoke slowly, but every conversation seemed friendly and familiar before becoming serious. It seemed every person had some concern they wanted Dian to address. Most of the time he spoke a few sentences and the other person nodded his or head in satisfaction, and then left.
As Fabrice buckled his seat belt, he asked, “Are you sure you don’t know Yuzhan Li?”
“We’ve been over this, American.”
“Yeah, I know. You said Quanzhou’s a big place and you can’t possibly know everyone, but it seems like you knew everyone we just passed. So either you’re bullshitting me, or we just happened to pass all the right people.”
“This is my neighborhood. I grew up near here. When I pick someone up at the airport and they want a good place to eat I bring them here. I know the place. But this is just one block in Quanzhou. Isn’t there a place in America where you’re known?”
“I guess so,” Fabrice said.
“Take my word for it, I don’t know Yuzhan Li.” Fabrice nodded his understanding. “Where do you want me to take you?”
“Well if you’ve got nothing else to do, maybe we can go back to the airport.”
“Are you a monster? We just came from the airport. Why do you want to send us back to the airport?”
“Yuzhan Li.”
“He’s at the airport?” Dian asked. “Why didn’t we see him rather than coming here?”
“I don’t know if he’s there or not. Probably not. But I had business arrangements through the airport, so they may know him. It’s worth a shot.”
“Five grand if we find him, right?” Dian asked again.
“That’s the deal,” Fabrice said.
“Airport,” Dian said as he pulled into traffic without signaling or looking behind him.
When they arrived at the airport Fabrice suggested they try to gain access to the cargo area. He didn’t expect to find Yuzhan Li there, but he hoped that someone might know of him, or have some helpful information. Fabrice arrived in the country with no leads, so he had to start from scratch. The airport seemed as ripe with possibility as any place else.
Dian followed a road around the perimeter of the airport until he saw a turnoff that led to a gate, next to which floodlights illuminated a guard shack. Dian stopped at the shack, and a man with a brown uniform and a plain, bright white baseball cap stepped out with a clipboard in hand.
He said nothing, and waited for Dian to speak. Dian felt uncomfortable right away and looked at Fabrice for guidance. Fabrice didn’t speak the languag
e, and began to speak slowly, as if the guard might understand him if he didn’t speak too fast.
“We’re here looking for someone. A business acquaintance who I think you might know.”
“Fabrice, the reason he can’t understand isn’t that you’re speaking too fast, it’s that you’re speaking a different language.” Fabrice threw his hands up. Dian addressed the guard in Chinese. “Excuse my friend, he doesn’t get away from America very often. Can you help us find someone?”
“Who are you looking for?” the guard asked.
“His name is Yuzhan Li. I don’t know him, but my friend here has some business with him and has reason to think that he’s around here, or that someone around here might help locate him. Does the name sound familiar to you?”
“No. I don’t know him,” the guard said. “Goodnight.” He turned to walk back inside the shack.
“Wait a minute,” Dian said. “We were hoping we might talk to some of the others to see if they can help us.”
“I’m the only one here,” the guard said. In the distance Dian saw crews of men driving equipment and stacking boxes.
“What about them?” Dian asked. “Those are the guys we want to talk to. The crew. They might know the men we’re looking for.”
“They’re busy. Go find someone else to bother.”
“He’s not going to let us in,” Dian said to Fabrice.
“Do you think he knows anything?” Fabrice asked.
“No. He just sounds pissed off.”
“Offer him money,” Fabrice said. “Two hundred dollars if he lets us through the gate to talk to those men.”
Dian offered the money to the man, who then looked at him in silence for thirty seconds, as if contemplating whether to take the money or to expose the men for trying to bribe a public official. Just as Dian began to feel uncomfortable, the man stepped into the guard shack, then came back out and handed Dian the clipboard, onto which he had clipped an empty envelope. Fabrice understood the guard’s intent, and put money into the envelope and returned the clipboard.
The guard stepped back into the shack, took a cursory look inside the envelope, and opened the gate. Dian thanked the man and pulled through.
He found an out-of-the-way place to park the car, turned to Fabrice and said, “Now what?”
“We ask around. Someone has to know something. Our business has come through here, and chances are these guys handled it. We have our own crew here, guys who don’t work for the airport, but I doubt anything can happen here without one of these guys knowing about it. Let me take the lead.”
“How are you going to take the lead if you don’t even speak the language?” Dian asked.
Fabrice chuckled, shook his head, and said, “Good point. I guess I can’t do this without you, can I? But I need your silence on this. I’ll try to get answers without telling you anything you shouldn’t know, but I need your word that you won’t divulge anything you learn.”
“I’m not an idiot, Fabrice. I’ve got five thousand dollars on the line here. I’ll play ball.”
“Let’s go,” Fabrice said, walking toward the first group of men he saw. They sat on plastic milk crates and drank bottles of water and ate sandwiches wrapped in foil. None of them paid attention to the two strangers approaching them. The crates were arranged in a semi-circle, so Fabrice stood at the opening and paused a moment, expecting all the men to turn their attention toward him. When they continued to ignore him, he nodded to Dian who began to speak.
“I’m Dian, this is my friend Fabrice. We’re looking for someone named Yuzhan Li. Do any of you know him?”
The men looked toward Dian, but still appeared disinterested. He approached the first man on a crate, got down on one knee in front of him to gain his attention, and said, “Do you think you can help me? We’re looking for Yuzhan Li. We know he spends some time here, and he does business here. Can you help?”
Without looking at Dian, the man shook his head and waved his hand as if to dismiss him. He took another bite of his sandwich.
Dian moved to the next man, repeated his question, and got the same response.
“Oh come on, someone’s got to know something,” Fabrice said. “Keep asking. They can’t all just blow you off. Offer them some money.”
Around the semi-circle Dian approached each man, asked the same question, described the urgency with which they needed to find Yuzhan Li, and even offered money to a couple of the men who seemed less standoffish. But he received the same stone silence each time.
“This is a waste of time,” Dian said. “These men aren’t going to talk. They’re workers. This is China. It doesn’t pay for workers to speak out here. That’s a good way for them to get into trouble. Best to just put their heads down, do their jobs, and see nothing. The guy who starts seeing things is the guy who disappears next week.”
“You think they’re being intimidated into silence on this?” Fabrice asked. “By whom? The government?”
“They’re not just intimidated into silence on this, they’re intimidated into silence on everything.”
“Fuck!” Fabrice yelled. “Whatever happened to doing the right thing, helping your fellow man?”
“That’s American bullshit,” Dian said. “You’re in China now, Fabrice. The sooner you figure that out, the better.”
“Fine. Tell them I’m staying at the Wanda Vista Quanzhou, and if their memories return they can come see me. I might have something for them.”
Dian relayed the message without any indication that the men heard what he said. He and Fabrice returned to the car, and as they drove off Dian said, “They don’t know Yuzhan Li. Only 1.3 billion more people to ask.” He laughed and hit the steering wheel in appreciation of his own humor. Fabrice shook his head, already exasperated.
19
Chapter 19
Buster ignored his phone’s buzz the first three times he heard it. He often ignored all disturbances when engrossed in work, as he was at that moment. His tendency to disappear into the remote sectors of his mind made his assistant’s job much more difficult, but she knew that he always answered on the fourth buzz. She buzzed him one more time, trying to will the urgency of the situation into the buzzing noise. When he failed to respond, one of the officers who stood in front of her spoke, “If Mr. Dodge won’t answer the phone, we’ll just let ourselves in.”
The officers walked around the assistant’s desk, through the vestibule where cherry wood panels lined the wall, and opened the door. They were two steps into the office before Buster looked up.
“You have to check-in with Mary before you come in here,” Buster said. “I’m in the middle of something.”
“You don’t listen when Mary buzzes you,” the officer said. “So we let ourselves in. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I do mind,” Buster said, standing up from his chair, walking around his desk toward the officers. “If you’d like to make an appointment, I’m sure that Mary can fit you in tomorrow. I’m much too busy to meet with anyone today though.”
“I’m Detective Sun, and this is Detective Gao. We need a few minutes of your time.”
Buster felt his stomach drop and thought he’d vomit. A sudden rush of blood away from his brain made him light-headed and he grabbed a chair in front of his desk to stabilize himself, hoping that the officers didn’t notice. At the same time, he felt that his body might shut down, but he tried to respond to Sun with complete nonchalance.
He glanced at his watch, smiled, and said, “I suppose I can find a few minutes for you. Shall we talk now?” he asked, as if he had another option.
“Yes, I think so,” Sun said. “May we sit?”
“Of course, of course,” Buster said. “Where are my manners? Please, have a seat.” He motioned to the single chair in front of his desk and then walked across the room and dragged another chair for Detective Gao. “What can I do for you gentlemen? It must be important if you’ve come here in the middle of the day to see me.”
“Tell u
s what you know about Yuzhan Li,” Sun said.
“Yuzhan Li?” Buster asked. “I know him casually. He’s a hustler around here. No particular business as far as I can tell. He just sort of does whatever comes up. Tries to scrape it together to make a living. Just like most other people. This place can be rough.”
“Do you have business with him?”
“Not at the moment,” Buster said. “We’ve worked together on a few things in the past. I don’t know if you’re aware that this is my building. Chinchew. I built it. It’s the finest building in Quanzhou. State-of-the-art, environmentally friendly, built with maximum sustainability and comfort in mind. We’ve achieved greatness with this. Yuzhan Li did some work with us in getting this built. He put me in touch with some of the people who provided financing, and he recommended contractors. He’s a good man to know. He knows the city very well. Seems to know everyone.”
“When did you see him last?”
Buster felt his throat tighten. He wanted to stand up and run from the room. He’d played this situation through his mind countless times in the days since he killed Li, and the sense of dread felt just as intense as he expected. He could feel beads of sweat forming on his forehead, and although he didn’t want the detectives to see him sweat, he didn’t want to wipe it away either. He squirmed in his seat, realized he did so, then crossed his legs and looked down at the floor, trying to portray himself as a man deep in thought rather than a man freaked out and about to crack.
“It’s been a while,” Buster said. “He helped at the beginning of the project, as I said. Once we got underway, he didn’t have much to do. And not to belittle the man, but it’s just by chance that he helped me with this. Even though he’s around and he knows everyone, this project is his limit. He’s small-time. He can handle the local jobs. The local contacts. But I’m operating internationally now. This was a one-time project, and he helped me. I don’t have anything he can help me with at this point.”