The reports from San Francisco about Colonel Wu bothered him.
Yao looked out his window at the heavy traffic crawling along on the broad avenue below. Motorcycles and scooters wove like manic squirrels in and out through thick clouds of exhaust smoke spewing from the trucks and busses. The leaves of the trees lining the boulevard hung wilted and defeated in the stifling heat.
An agent reported a meeting in a restaurant between Wu and his sergeant, Choy. Wu had sent Choy after a book belonging to a capitalist banker. The banker was dead. Yao had a thick file on the man, Connor, a heavy investor in Chinese industry. According to the report, Wu was responsible for the death. Why had Wu killed the American and sent someone after the dead man's book?
Inquiries had been made at the Consulate regarding Choy and the death of an American police officer. Now Choy was on his way back to China. It was all spread out in the papers on his desk. The eyes and ears of the Te-Wu, the Chinese Secret Service, reached across the Pacific as easily as to the next room.
Wu was supposed to be in San Francisco to probe the Chinese community there about money being funneled from America to the independence movement in the Tibet Autonomous Region. But Wu walked in the shadow of General Yang.
Why would Yang concern himself with a rabble of monks and peasants who had no possibility of achieving their revisionist goals? That kind of intelligence wasn't important enough to send a high ranking officer to investigate. Something wasn't right.
Few people in China had the authority and resources Yao wielded as a Senior Investigator of the Secret Service. He never gave up on an investigation until it was finished. He lived by the words of Sun Tzu, and it had made him one of the most successful agents in the two thousand year history of the Service.
If one waits patiently by the banks of the river, the Master had said, sooner or later the bodies of one's enemies will float by.
When they did, Yao would be there to pluck them from the water and make sure they were dead.
For Yao, it was simple. Loyalty to the nation and the Communist Party formed the foundation of a stable society. Yao thought society was even more important than family, the bedrock of Chinese culture. The greater good of the nation was the standard that must be followed. Yao's given name meant Love of Country. He considered himself a patriot and guardian of the greater good.
He reached for another file, this one on General Yang. In the People's Republic, no one was above investigation. All top military leaders received periodic scrutiny. If there was nothing irregular, there was no need for concern. If there was, measures were taken to correct the situation.
Yang's file gave no indication he was anything but an outstanding example of the professionalism now infusing the People's Liberation Army.
The file noted that Yang had founded a social and cultural group called the White Jade Society. Membership consisted of high-ranking officers and senior government leaders. Such societies were common. Belonging to a group of powerful associates was expected for someone in Yang's high position. The General was a man of influence in today's China.
He studied the file. Yang was Chief of Military Intelligence, the most powerful position on the General Staff, important in the daily oversight of China's considerable military might. He was also a member of the Central Military Commission of the Communist Party Central Committee. Anything to do with the Commission was political at the highest level and therefore dangerous. Yao would have to pursue his inquiries with care.
Yao's success as an investigator was based on obsessive attention to detail and a highly developed ability to think like his quarry. Why did Yang want Connor's money? Connor had been wealthy beyond belief. Yao made a note to follow the money trail.
Wu would never kill such an important man without orders, so there had to be some direct benefit to Yang. Money had always been a corrupter of men. If money was behind this, Yao would root out and expose Yang's complicity, but somehow it didn't feel right. Yang would not be able to spend that kind of money without being discovered and punished.
If it wasn't money, what else would motivate Yang? Wu had sent his Sergeant to fetch a book. What was in it? Had he been successful? Yao would assign a team to Choy when he arrived home. General Yang was in Beijing and surveillance would begin immediately. Colonel Wu was in San Francisco, but that was no obstacle. Yao would contact his agent in the Consulate and give him instructions.
Yao looked out the window. He decided to elevate Yang and Wu to priority level. Until he found out what they were doing, they were under suspicion of being enemies of the State, distinguished careers or not. Yao trusted his instincts. He would find out what was going on, it was only a matter of time.
He put his hands behind his head, leaned back and looked out into the hazy air of Beijing. Yang was up to something treasonous, he could feel it. Yao breathed deeply of the smog and felt the exhilaration of the hunt beginning.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Selena made herself at home in the spare bedroom. She had some things sent over from her rooms at the Mayflower.
Carter's apartment was minimal in terms of decoration. A good copy of a Paul Klee painting hung over the couch. The carpet was a neutral tan. There were Japanese woodcuts on one of the walls. The furniture was European Modern, clean and functional.
Ronnie sat on the couch, reading a magazine. He'd set up shop next door. The book was locked up back at the Project. Selena had scanned it onto her laptop and was working on the translation.
Carter was in the kitchen putting together a salad and pasta. He liked salad and pasta. It didn't challenge his culinary skills, which were minimal at best. Selena's cell phone rang. He heard her talking, voice excited and pleased.
She paused, covered the phone. "This is an old friend, Cathy Chen. We used to go out and have drinks, go dancing, that kind of thing. She's here in Washington and wants to get together. We're not supposed to be out on the town, but I thought she could come over here and we could talk. You don't mind, do you?"
"No, of course not."
Selena gave directions and hung up.
"I need to let security know downstairs. When is she coming?"
"She said it would take about half an hour."
"Then we'd better eat. Everything's ready."
"Best news I've heard today," said Ronnie from the couch.
Carter set the food on the table and cracked a bottle of Pinot. He called security and told the guard to expect Selena's friend. They sat down.
"How are you doing with the translation?"
"I've got the Sanskrit done and I'm making progress with the Linear A. It's all here on my laptop. You remember I told you one of the ingredients for the elixir was something called burning silver rocks?"
"Yes?"
"The text says the silver rock turns black. The directions say to crush the rocks and leach them with what is probably some kind of acid. That turns the rock gold, or at least yellow in color. I've never seen the particular word construction before. Then you powder the result and mix it with the other ingredients in a liquid infusion. Or maybe it's a solution."
"Sounds like Alchemy. The Alchemists were always trying to turn things into gold."
"This formula already contains gold. I have an idea about those rocks. I think they're uranium ore, extremely high grade. I asked Stephanie to program my translation into her scenarios to see what comes up. We'll know tomorrow."
"How do you figure uranium?"
"What kind of rocks 'burn'? There's nothing in the text about heating them. The only thing I could think of is something radioactive. I did some research. Uranium ore can be silver in color. It oxidizes and turns black."
"China has uranium deposits. Why would that interest Yang?"
"China's deposits are poor quality. It takes a lot of processing to get anything you can use."
"Like for bombs?" Ronnie asked.
"Yes. If those rocks are from a high grade deposit, Yang would want to know where it was. There's only one k
nown deposit like that in the world, in Saskatchewan. The Canadians get as much as seventy-five percent useful refinement from their raw material. The regular stuff produces only one or two percent."
"That would give Yang something to speed up China's nukes program. It makes more sense than hunting for an elixir of life." Carter drank some wine.
Ronnie buttered a piece of sourdough bread and took a large bite. The crumbs dropped on the polyester surf scene he was wearing.
"What do you think, Nick? Is Yang planning an attack here? He's got to be crazy if he thinks we wouldn't retaliate."
"Crazy as a fox, maybe. Politics being what it is, he might pull it off by setting someone up as the fall guy, like a terrorist group or even the Triads. They're right here and a lot easier to go after than whoever is running things in Beijing."
"But the Triads would blow the whistle on him."
"Sure, but where's the proof? It would be their word against his, and he'd be sitting on the trigger of China's nukes. If you were a bunch of our politicians trying to calm everyone down, would you tell the truth? They'd spin it like crazy."
"You'd think Yang would be satisfied with all the power he's already got."
"Power is never enough," said Selena. "At least it seems those who have power always want more."
"You're a cynic." Ronnie said.
"It's true here at home. Why would it be any different in Communist China?"
Carter took a fork full of pasta.
The buzzer rang. He got up and went over to the intercom.
"Yes."
"Mister Carter, your guest is here."
"Send her up." He looked at Selena. "Your friend is downstairs."
"You'll like her."
Ronnie wiped his plate with bread and downed the rest of his soda. He never drank alcohol. He'd seen families and friends destroyed by it on the Reservation. "I'll go next door. Let me know if you need me for something."
There was a light knock on the door as Ronnie reached it. He opened it and stepped aside.
Cathy Chen had long, jet black hair and classic Eurasian beauty. Her golden skin and good looks would fade in a few years, but for now she was in her prime, radiating vitality.
She wore a burgundy silk cheongsam, cut low and tight against her body. It showed off her slim figure to perfect advantage. It would have made some women look like a high priced hooker. On Cathy Chen it provided the touch of elegance and style it was meant to convey. A necklace of delicate white jade graced her throat. She carried a paper bag with a high end shop logo on it. The neck of a bottle stuck out.
"Cathy!"
"Hi, Selena."
They moved toward each other and embraced. Ronnie glanced at Nick, shrugged his shoulders, and closed the door behind him.
"Cathy, this is Nick."
She took his hand, her touch cool. Her eyes were bright. He thought he detected something there, but then it was gone.
"Nice to meet you, Nick. This is your place?"
"Yes."
"Great view." She turned to Selena. "Hey, girlfriend. What have you been up to, aside from Nick, here?"
"Oh, not too much. Nick and I have been hanging out some. I'm working on a translation and doing some consulting work."
"It's about time you hung out with someone. You haven't been seeing anyone since that jerk you tossed in Greece—what's his name…"
"Ted. But Nick and I are just friends."
"Oh sure." She gave him a look. "Well, it's great to see you."
"How about you, what are you doing?"
"I just started with a consulting firm here in Washington. They've got a client in China and they hired me as the token Asian."
"Oh, come on, Cathy, no one's going to take you on as a token. Where are you staying?"
They began talking away. After a few minutes Cathy broke out the bottle she'd brought with her.
"Let's open this. I know you appreciate wine and this one is supposed to be excellent. It's Australian. They're making some really good stuff now."
Nick got out an opener, some fresh glasses, and pulled the cork. Cathy poured. She held up her glass.
"Money, health, love and time to enjoy them. Here's to you."
They clinked glasses. The wine was good, full bodied and smooth, with an underlying taste Nick couldn't pin down. They moved into the living area and sat down, carrying the glasses.
Cathy glanced over at Selena's laptop, still open on the desk.
"Is that the translation you're working on? What's it about?"
"Yes. It's an old Sanskrit text on medicine. Nothing very earth shaking."
"You always were a whiz at that kind of thing. Working right from the source. I had enough trouble researching the information that was already translated."
Carter felt dizzy. The light was fluctuating. Cathy looked at him.
"I don't feel very well," Selena said.
"Can I get you anything?" said Cathy.
Selena's wine glass slipped out of her hand and dropped to the floor. The wine spread in a widening stain over the carpet. Nick tried to get up, but his legs turned to rubber and he crashed to the floor. His vision blurred. The last thing he heard was Cathy Chen telling Selena she was sorry.
Chapter Twenty-Five
"Nick. Nick." Ronnie's voice was urgent. "Nick! Wake up."
He opened his eyes. He had a hell of a headache. Ronnie bent over him.
"Where's Selena?"
"She's okay, she's awake, just not feeling so good. Jesus, Nick, I thought you were dead when I came in."
Suckered and drugged. He remembered the odd taste in the wine. He got to his feet and a blacksmith shop opened up inside his head.
Ronnie helped him to the couch where a white-faced Selena was sitting with her eyes closed.
"You all right?" Carter touched her arm.
"I think so. What happened?"
"We were drugged. Your friend slipped it into the wine."
"Nick, I'm sorry. I can't believe this."
He looked around. Selena's computer was gone. Nothing else seemed out of place The drugged bottle of "really good stuff" sat half empty on the coffee table..
"Not your fault, don't be sorry. How could you know she would do this?"
"Why would she drug us?"
"She took your computer. She must be an agent for Wu. Nobody else would know you were working on the book."
Selena looked stricken. "The whole book was on that computer. That means they have it, Yang's got what he wants."
"Then maybe now they'll leave us alone. Don't worry about it. We'll figure out what to do. I've got to call the Director."
"I'll do it." Ronnie placed the call. Harker wasn't going to be thrilled at the news. After a minute Ronnie hung up.
"The word's out on Chen. I gave her description and we've got security tapes we can pull from downstairs. We'll find her."
"How long were we out?"
"Not long. I checked back about half an hour after I went next door. When you didn't answer, I let myself in."
"That bitch." Selena was furious. "I thought she was my friend. She was my friend. I'd like to get my hands on her right now."
"We'll get her," Carter said. "I wonder how Wu knew we were in Washington? The last the Chinese saw of us, we were buried in that mine."
"That's something we're going to have to find out." Ronnie went to the kitchen and brought back two glasses of water.
"Drink up. Guaranteed, no drugs."
Carter woke in the middle of the night. The bedroom door was partly open. He heard muffled sobbing coming from the living room. Selena was sitting on the couch, her head in her hands. He was about to go to her when something stopped him. He knew about grief. Sometimes it needs to be a private thing.
He went back to bed, but it was a long time before he fell asleep.
He dreamed of Megan.
Megan was across the street, waiting for a bus. He waved, but she didn't seem to see him. Endless streams of cars roared by and he
couldn't get across to her. He saw the bus coming and she still hadn't seen him. He called her name but no sound came out.
Then he was standing next to her. She looked at him, shook her head, a sad expression on her face.
"There's no point in waiting, Nick."
"Waiting for what?"
"For the bus. See?"
She pointed at the large, black bus bearing down on them. The destination sign said AIRPORT.
The driver was visible through the windshield. He was faceless and he had a grenade in his hand.
"Where are you going," Nick said.
"There's no point in waiting."
Then he was back in the village, feeling the rifle kick back against his shoulder, one, two, three times, watching the grenade come toward him, watching a child die.
He woke soaked in sweat, heart pounding, his mind filled with thoughts of loss.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Next morning Harker was dressed in her trade mark black pants suit. She wore gold and ruby hanging earrings, a wild variation for her.
"How are you feeling, Nick?"
"Like I've got a world class hangover."
"I'm wondering how they knew you were here, and how they found you."
"It would have been easy enough. They had my name. I just didn't believe they were after us. They had to think we were killed in the mine."
"I agree. So how did they make the jump back to Washington?"
"Someone must have told them Selena was here," Ronnie said. "They could have tracked her to Nick's."
The Director tapped FDR's pen on her desk, thinking things through.
"Not many people knew you were here. The people in this room. The FBI. No one else is in the loop at this point. It must be the FBI."
"A mole at the Bureau?"
"Has to be. Someone told Wu you were alive and here in Washington. Sending your friend was smart, Selena, you would never suspect her."
Carter rubbed his bandaged ear. "They have Selena's computer and that means they have the book. It's what they've been after all along."
White Jade (The PROJECT) Page 9