Assignment Peking

by Edward S. Aarons

  "So I'm the third that you're sending?"

  "Yes."

  "And you want me to find out if he's a traitor, a prisoner, or what?"

  "We want you," Haystead said flatly, "to get him out of there. Bring him back, if you can. It's imperative that I talk with him. Urgent, you understand? He knows something that I must know. But if you can't get him out, kill him."

  Durell nodded. It was not an unexpected assignment.

  But there was more to it, he knew. He stood quietly, waiting, while Haystead's square, pale fingers adjusted the dossiers on his desk.

  "You don't want the job?" Haystead asked finally.

  "I didn't say that."

  "You have a talent for saying a lot by saying precisely nothing."

  "I want the rest of it," Durell said. "Two men have been killed, you say, trying to get to Chien. I'm the third. I don't want to strike out just because I don't know which direction the ball is coming from." Are you afraid?"

  "I'm always afraid," Durell said quietly.

  "Listen to me, Durell," Haystead rasped. "You've been most highly recommended. They say you're the best, the best available. If you fail, we're all in trouble. Big trouble."

  "General Chien is just one man."

  "Right. But there are people, powerful people, behind him. Do you understand what happens if Chien Y-Wu, who may well be an egomaniac, talks his head off and blows all our electronic data to L-5? The Peking regime is just aching for an outside diversion aimed directly against us. Things are getting chaotic in there, with resistance to Mao's Cultural Revolution. The old-liners who go back to Mao's Long March will jump at the chance to yell provocation—with proof—and wind up a few atomic toys for Taiwan. Ostensibly, their enemy would be the Kuom-intang here. But we're committed to retaliate. A lot of our boys are just aching for that excuse, too." Haystead rubbed his forehead, the first human gesture of distress that Durell had observed. "Goddamit, it's a conspiracy on both sides, and that stupid Chien can trigger it into an atomic war."

  "Do the Chinese Reds have the missiles and the atomic capabilities to start something?"

  "Yes, they do. And there's a clique over there just hungry for it."

  "And a group in Washington equally anxious to have an excuse to answer?" Durell said. "I want to be clear on it."

  "Now you're getting the real picture," Haystead snapped. "So what we don't know is who is going to try to stab you in the back before you get to Chien and shut Chien's mouth, understand? It could come from either side, as I said. The other two men we sent were good— damned good. But they were betrayed. There are traitors everywhere in this crazy world, Durell. People have lost their sense of perspective and have gone overboard on stupid ideologies and do-gooder schemes. Hell, people haven't changed for thousands of years. So the way I see it, it's short-sighted and dangerous."

  Haystead paused. "Our people have forgotten the good old-fashioned virtues that have made this nation the greatest and strongest power in human history. Forget your disciplines and morality and you go under; you sink and die. Look at Rome, Athens. But what America has is worth fighting for, by God, and by all the good principles that made our nation great, I intend to fight for the right as long as I draw a breath in my body. All this softheaded, socialist thinking in our courts and Congress can only lead to our own self-destruction. Traitors, yes, and they'll be after you to stop you, Durell. I can tell you, as you stand there right now, that at this moment your life isn't worth a plugged nickel."

  As Haystead spoke, his words created a subtle metamorphosis in his face and figure. His body seemed to grow rigid with anger, and there was almost a Messianic look in his eyes that made Durell keep carefully silent. Then the man seemed to shiver and relax a little, and Durell said, "Just where are the traitors on our side, sir? In the Pentagon, perhaps?"

  "I don't know," Haystead grumbled.

  "In your own Air Force? You talk as if "

  Haystead flushed with new anger. "It could well be right in your own establishment, Durell. So watch yourself every step of the way. Trust no one. Your orders can come only from me, understand? No matter who speaks to you, or how long you may have known a man—or woman," he added, glancing for the first time at Jasmine, "you remember you belong just to me on this mission."

  The general suddenly flipped the small folders on his desk toward Durell. He seemed very tired, all at once, and smiled with a startling, boyish shyness that was abrupt enough to seem genuine. "It's all there. The whole outline. Briefings on the people who will help you on the mainland. Read them, memorize them, and destroy them before you get on the plane with Chu. I understand you have top rating in mnemonic exercises."

  For a second time, General Harry Haystead looked directly at Jasmine Jones. The Chinese girl hadn't moved from her post at the office door, and all that could be heard for a moment was the sibilant hissing of an air-conditioning system operating somewhere. Durell wondered if everything that had been said was recorded on tape and film. He had the feeling, bred into him by so many similar circumstances, of being watched and studied by unseen eyes. Something flickered across Haystead's flat boyish face as he studied the tall girl.

  "You," he said to her. "You work for McFee, is that right?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "I must tell you I didn't want you in on this at all. But we all have to compromise, unfortunately. That's the trouble with this sort of thing. That's how people get killed." He paused. "Your orders are with Durell's. He'll brief you. I think your presence is unnecessary. But it can't be helped. All right, then. I guess that's all."

  Durell did not move. Haystead lifted hard brows at him. "Is something the matter? I said you could go."

  "Everything is the matter. I want to know who and what I'm really working for. You've talked a lot of garbage about treason in high places, General Haystead, all tied in with this Nationalist, Chien Y-Wu, now in Peking. I don't think I have enough to do this job."

  "You have all I can give you," Haystead said decisively. He smiled suddenly, and again the fanatic light of discipline became a boyish grin in his pale eyes. "You're not going to back out on me, are you?"

  Every instinct in Durell told him that he should, right now. But his instinct also told him that he would be a dead man, one way or the other, if he gave Haystead the wrong answer. He felt suddenly like an innocent targSt caught in a field of cross fire. Or a tool, a cat's-paw, for people and purposes he could only dimly perceive. It was too late, definitely, to back out now.

  Haystead offered him a quick, politician's hand. "Good luck, Durell. Be careful. And I will see you here in three weeks. With Chien, or with proof of his death. We can't give you any more time than that."

  He looked at Jasmine with hostility. "And you, Miss Jones, may tell McFee what you like."

  Six

  Jasmine went directly to the bedroom of the small suite reserved for Durell at the Sea Goddess Hotel and left the door only slightly ajar. The night was warm. Durell lit one of his rare cigarettes, drew the draperies across the sliding glass balcony doors, shutting off the sight of the pool and the main lobby. Music came dimly from the cocktail terrace down there. He heard the sounds of the Chinese girl moving about in the next room, but he did not go in to see her; they had spoken very little to each other on the drive back from General Haystead's office.

  Durell took the thin file of briefing notes and put them flat on the coffee table, switched on a modern bull's-eye reading lamp, and started going through the sheets of thin, finely typed papers in the folder. They had been classified 4-AX—to be read and destroyed.

  The first sheet dealt with his projected flight to mainland China with Colonel Chu. Haystead, he admitted reluctantly, was as efficient as the top-secret computers and code breakers in the lower basements of the National Security Agency's headquarters outside of Washington.

  Every possible contingency seemed to be provided for, although Durell was skeptical of such carefully calculated plans. Men did not act like machines or accordin
g to the rules of higher mathematics. The details of such a project as this rarely worked out as proposed. Disaster could arise from a slip on the smallest detail—and no one could foresee what such a detail might be.

  It could turn upon a suspicious traffic cop or shopkeeper, a drunk reeling down a street, a delay in a railway schedule, illness, the weather, a thousand and one trivialities to delay or upset such a tightly worked schedule.

  Nevertheless, Durell studied and memorized the names of all contacts he might need en route, contingency hideouts, alternate passages, a highly detailed map of Peking, a description of the house in which the Nationalist general Chien Y-Wu, was being held. He had been trained for this sort of mental discipline, and after scanning the page twice he had the capacity of visual recall to read off, as if the instructions were before his eyes, every word he had just read.

  He lit a match and burned this first sheet with care in a large stone ashtray, crushed the ashes into black powder, and then turned to the dossiers and attached photographs.

  ZA55/Proj . 7b.2/CLASSIFIED 4/ANALYST 5B

  WARNING : READ AND DESTRO Y.

  C HIEN, Y-Wu . 8rig. General, Nationalist Chinese 4rmy, KMT, Commander Lotus Dept. E. branch.

  Age : 44

  Phys. Descrip : Hgt: 5'8 n Wgt: 220. Dist. Mksi Wears steel-rimmed reading glasses constantly. No other identities except bayonet scar left side chin.

  Marital Status : Two wives, Taipei; 7 children.

  Comments : General Chien a close intimate at one time of the Generalissimo and ruling hierarchy Kuomintang. In the years immediately preceding the defeat by Mao Tse-tung ? s Red Army forces and subsequent flight of the Nationalist Army to Formosa, was close to ruling circles. For a time, out of favor afterward in Taipei as result of slack discipline and defeat of commanded division. Tried and judged for loose morale in troops leading to defection and surrender of approx. 6,000 men before the retreat to Formosa. Acquitted 1948, demoted to It. colonel, given duty U.S.A. at Cipher Dept. V, 1949-1953. Engaged by Dept. V for info source, received training under Brig. Gen. H. H. Haystead in electronic data-collection, code analysis, and since has been receiving personal emoluments which have been deposited his name Suisse Banque Nationale, Geneva. Total amount to July 1968: $107,505. Fund 22.

  Critical Data : Although some areas doubt exist in re subject's opportunism, he has performed excellently in guiding and gathering mainland China's economic and industrial military establishment under Zebra flight program. His vanishment 17 June with no further dinect word from subject is a matter of critical and urgent policy decision. His information on U.S. electronic capacity and Zebra program could if divulged to Peking's L-5, create enormous tensions for the KMT government on Taiwan, with hostilities a 98% developed conclusion.

  URGENT : It must be learned immediately whether Chien Y-Wu was captured against his wish or if he voluntarily defected. No trace of Zebra aircraft 57.Z can be located. Info received indicates subject presently quartered in Black House at Peking, living with a woman, presently unidentified. His family relations in Taipei indicate no marital or domestic difficulties.

  Chien must be rescued or eliminated.

  See attached Photo 72752 and accompanying data.

  Durell turned to the next dossier and read about the man he was to impersonate.

  ZA55/Proj.7b.3/CLASSIFIED 4/ANALYST 65/File L-5-1212:

  SHAN. Tze Peng . Major, People's Army of the Chinese Republic, assigned L-5 Black House 1962 to present date.

  General Data : Born 1924, joined Long March as a boy, a devoted Marxist and Communist ideologist, educated U. of Peking, electronics engineering, Wu-han KPI Industrial Communal Factory 4. Transferred to Manchuria, 1964, married, wife died 1967, assigned to Taipei and entered island via Hong Kong with cover as transistor manufacturer. Identified as Black House agent on 21 June 1968, by General Chien, reported to Zebra and Lotus Groups. Kept under surveillance two months to learn contacts. Results negative and ordered eliminated by Colonel Chu of Lotus Group 2. Reports continue to be sent in Shan's name to L-5 Peking to date.

  Critical Data : It was recently learned by Lotus via Zebra that Shan Tze Peng is being ordered back to Peking for report and indoctrination to and in Six Sentinel Group. No data on meaning of Six Sentinels; no data on such program. No data on Shan's superiors in Black House. Agents Ling and Barkovsky killed in Peking. No data returned.

  URGENT : Code 7/BZ5--The replacement of Shan considered highly speculative and unpromising project. Analysis indicates 87.6% failure projection.

  Durell considered the last sentence for a long moment, his face without expression, and then he burned the onionskin, crushed the ashes, and took up the last two items.

  Precis, Henry Talbot-Smythe, liaison officer Sigma, K Section, State Department, Division of Analysis and Projection:

  Information in regard to K Section's recent activities in the Far East indicates several dangerous and provocative moves against the militant Peking Army groups, unfavorably regarded by Congressional Committee (Harrison), Defense Department, Division of Chinese Affairs, and Joint Chiefs. Chief instigator of these moves is believed to be General Dickinson McFee, of the autonomous K Section of the Central Intelligence Agency.

  Reports from our Oriental experts express alarm at these provocative acts that may precipitate armed hostilities against the Taiwan regime.

  It is recommended that General McFee be removed from command of K Section and that this unit be disbanded and its personnel debriefed and assigned to NSA wherever favorably indicated.

  Confidential Memo 27/0 From: White Guard To: Dragon

  Subject: D.McF., K Sec.

  Who and what are the Six Sentinels? It has come to the attention of the President and he requests immediate and definitive data. There is no comprehensive file on Zebra Program, Lotus Group 2, or the subject commanding K Section. It is noted that White House directives and public statements of policy have often been directly contravened by both overt and sub rosa activities. Preliminary investigation indicates the source of these provocations can be and must be a result of subject's independent activities.

  This can be a threat to the safety and defense of the nation.

  In the critical case of General Chien, subject's field agent has been transferred to the direct command of Zebra.

  It is believed that the Six Sentinels represent a highly secret military and political group seeking international provocations in order to achieve a domestic coup d'etat in Washington and establishment of a .junta . Identities must be discovered at all costs, the soonest.

  Durell burned the last of the papers, then added the thin folder to the heap of black, crushed ashes. He picked up the heavy stone ashtray, took it into the elaborately tiled bath, flushed the ashes down the toilet, cleaned the tray, and returned it to the living room. There was a faint scent of spicy feminine perfume in the air, an essence of femininity that made him look toward the bedroom door. A dim light glowed there. But no sound came from the bedroom.

  He walked to the door and pushed it all the way open with his fingertips. Jasmine lay in the king-size bed, with only a sheet over her naked body. She had loosened her long black hair, and it lay shimmering about her head on the white pillow. Her eyes were closed, but her face reflected tension, even fear. There was a rigidity to her body and her long, exposed legs that also told him much about her state of mind, and he made his voice gentle when he spoke.

  "It's all right, Jasmine."

  She spoke without opening her eyes. "No, it is not all right."

  "What's wrong, then?"

  "Your voice is Sam Durell's, but when I look at you "

  He smiled. "Did Ike Greentree make me so ugly?"

  "No."

  "Is it because I now look Chinese?"

  "Yes."

  "But you're Chinese."

  "Yes. And I'm all mixed up about it."

  He took off his clothes and turned out the light and sat on the edge of the bed beside her. "It's dark now. You can't see my fac
e. Is that better?"

  A thin breath escaped her parted lips. He kissed her. She did not respond at all and he said, "What is it? Tell me, Jasmine. We can't have any secrets between us."

  "I know what you're thinking, Sam dear."

  "And what is that?"

  "You think that McFee insisted and managed to get agreement that I go with you so he could be informed about you. It must be plain to you that General Haystead has accepted me on this assignment very reluctantly."

  "Yes, that's true," Durell said.

  "So you know that I'm a defense mechanism put into the works by General McFee."

  "He doesn't need any defense from me," Durell said.

  "But he said you might be influenced otherwise. So in a sense, he insisted that I go along to spy on you."

  "Yes, I understand that. Surveillance is a fact of life in this business."

  "Are you not angry with me?"

  "No. We all have our jobs to do. What else do you know about the situation?"

  "Nothing," Jasmine said, in a way ihat told him she knew more.

  "Do you think that matters may develop in such a way that I may have to decide to kill McFee?"

  "Perhaps," she said. "No one knows much about him, I think. Or the whole thing may be a trap, Sam dear. I think you have been selected as some kind of sacrificial lamb to appease some hidden power somewhere." Her voice changed a little. "But you are not a paper tiger, Sam. I know the terrible things you can and have done."

  "Do you trust Colonel Chu?" he asked suddenly.

  Her answer was prompt. "No. Not at all."

  "Good girl. Be suspicious. It's the only way to survive in this business."

  "Do you trust me?" she asked.

  "No. Not a bit."

  He slid into bed with her, drew aside the sheet over her waist, and held her long, firm body close to him. She kept her limbs rigid for a moment, and then with a gasp she tangled her long legs with his and turned to him and made herself utterly fluid against him. He felt the cool slide of sudden tears on her cheeks.