Han was now on his own, a fugitive from his masters in Beijing and now without the protection of the people he had joined to foster fresh business relationships.
He wandered around the house and found himself in the room Regan had used as an office. He located his own attaché case on the floor beside Regan’s desk. Opening it he found the contents secure. He closed the case, then paused and reached into his pocket for the two flash drives he had taken possession of just before the American, Hawkins, had pushed him through the window. His fingers closed over empty air. The flash drives were gone. Han moved to the window and examined the ground outside. Splintered wood and broken glass lay where he had fallen. It was light enough now for him to be able to see the ground clearly.
The drives weren’t there. Even when he climbed outside, got on his knees to search, he found nothing. Han returned to the house and took his attaché case back to the room he had been using. He quickly removed his wet clothing, dried himself and dressed in clean clothes and shoes. He took his attaché case, tucked his acquired pistol behind his belt and made his way from the house. Passing through Regan’s office he noticed a cell phone on the desk. He slipped it into his pocket.
The SUVs were still there. Han took one and drove away from the house, along the muddy access road that would take him to the main highway. As he drove, his mind was working busily. He had accepted the loss of the flash drives, and as important as they might have been to his future, they were lost to him now. There were still substantial cash amounts in various accounts, so money wasn’t an immediate problem. His first priority was to get out of Santa Lorca. Sooner or later the incident at Regan’s hacienda would be discovered. Han didn’t want to be around when that happened.
Jack Regan’s disappearance intrigued him. Where was the man? From his association with Regan it had become clear to Han that he was a survivor. Understanding Regan the way he did, Han imagined the man would have had an escape plan prepared. If he had seen the way things were going, Regan might easily have put his plan into action and quietly slipped away. If Han was right, Regan was probably already out of the country. There was another possibility. Perhaps the Americans had captured him, spiriting Regan away to some secure place where they could interrogate him over the affairs of the Shadow organization. Of the two options Han somehow believed the former was the most likely scenario.
He drove around Port Cristobal, heading for the border that lay to the north along the coast road. In the early morning he pulled over and took out the cell phone. Su Han needed help getting clear of Santa Lorca, and at this moment in time there was only one person he could think of who might be able to help. Checking the phone, he was relieved to find it was triband. He dialed a number that was forever imprinted on his memory and waited for several rings. The connection finally clicked over to the message service and Su Han spoke quickly in his own tongue. He placed the cell phone on the seat beside him and continued driving north. He passed through a couple of small fishing villages, stopping once to buy bottled water and packages of crackers. His dollars were accepted readily.
Han also received curious stares, wondering why until he realized that Chinese travelers were probably not seen very often in Santa Lorca. That concerned him a little. If the authorities started to investigate the deaths at Regan’s hacienda, it would come out a Chinese national had been seen in Port Cristobal before the killings and then moving around the country after the event.
Han’s concern traveled with him. There was little he could do about his appearance, and trying to abandon the SUV at this stage would only leave him stranded.
The return call on the cell phone solved all his problems in a single stroke.
“Director Han? Why have you called me?”
“Listen to me, Sammo. There have been disturbing developments here in Santa Lorca. The Americans tracked down our Shadow friends. There was a strike at Regan’s house, and they were all killed. I barely escaped with my life. Where are you?”
“At a small airstrip just across the border. I have been trying to make contact. There was supposed to be transport here to pick me up.”
“It won’t be coming. You must stay away from Santa Lorca. I am on the run myself, driving north. I ask a favor. Wait for me before you leave. You are my only hope of escape.”
There was no hesitation in Sammo Chen Low’s voice. “Of course I will wait. How long will you be?”
“Three hours maximum. I am on the coast road. It is the way I was brought into the country myself.”
“Was it the crossing at La Cruz?”
“Yes.”
“I will be waiting.”
“You will not regret this, Sammo.”
SAMMO CHEN LOW closed the cell phone and slipped it in his pocket.
“Understood, Director Han.” He turned and smiled at the Chinese who had traveled all the way from Beijing with him. “He says I will not regret having helped him.”
“How would you regret carrying out a great service to your country, Sammo?” The slim, soft-eyed operative from the enforcement section of the Second Department, Intelligence touched the heavy, suppressed pistol that lay in his lap. “It seems that your forward planning has paid off. Instead of us having to go all the way into Santa Lorca to confront Han, he is coming here.”
Sammo Chen Low nodded. This was turning out better than he had expected. He hadn’t been looking forward to going all the way to Regan’s hacienda and play-acting until he managed to get Su Han on his own. This way it would be quicker and cleaner. Beijing would be satisfied that Han had paid for his incompetence, Chen Low, as a loyal member of the Party, would receive his promotion, and the crisis would be over.
He sat back, prepared to wait, and was already envisaging the expression on Su Han’s face when he realized what was going to happen to him. By that time it would be far too late.
Far, far too late…
EPILOGUE
Mission Debrief—Stony Man Farm
“Why don’t we look at the negative aspects of the mission first,” Hal Brognola said, taking his seat at the conference table.
Both teams were in attendance, including Carl Lyons. Despite being in recovery, his arm heavily bandaged and in a sling, he had insisted he be here. Refreshed and rested, in clean clothing, they were all showing the physical effects of the mission.
Jack Grimaldi was here, too.
Mei Anna had moved on from Bagram with Loy Hung to a secret location in Hong Kong, with the assurance she would be in contact with McCarter soon.
There was a definite air of tension in the room.
“There was too much screwing around on this one,” Brognola said. “Your foray back into China went against every rule of engagement we have. It was damn foolish and it could have cost us.”
McCarter held his gaze, keeping himself in check.
“The whole team could have ended up in prison, or worse, and you blatantly ignored my concerns.”
“Tough,” McCarter said.
“What?”
“Hal, you heard. I told you exactly what I intended at the time. We had a team member in jeopardy and there was no way we were leaving her behind.”
“Officially, Mei Anna isn’t a member of Phoenix Force.”
“Oh, come on. That’s a cheap shot and you know it. She was enough of a member when you recruited her to go along. Bloody hell, Hal, you can’t just muck around with the rule book when it suits you and the big chief, then renege once the deed has been done. Remember what was said at the start of this mission? Anything and everything is considered okay, just as long as we get the electronic gizmo back. Well, we did just that and we put Guang Lor out of action. To do all that we made an illegal incursion into Chinese territory, engaged their military and killed a fair few, caused damage. And all with presidential sanction. So quit shaking the big stick at me, because it doesn’t bloody well scare me.”
“You done?”
McCarter considered, then shook his head. “One, Mei Anna took a hel
l of a lot of hard treatment on this. She could have simply directed us into China and waited with Jack. But she went in with us. That made her a paid-up member of the team. Hal, you bloody well know we never leave anyone behind. You knew bloody well we couldn’t abandon her. Two, lay off Jack. In the field he’s under my command as head of Phoenix Force. He had no choice. I ordered him to take us back over the border to pull Anna out. He was obeying orders. My orders. Right, Jack?”
Grimaldi looked blank for a moment.
“I…yeah, that’s right. David ordered me in.”
“This has been a weird one all the way down the line, Hal,” Lyons said. “Teams split up. T.J. going under cover. Gadgets getting himself caught up in that mess on the train. We were up against more than one group. But we delivered in the end. If I remember, there was a suggestion of ‘whatever it takes to get the job done’ back at the start. So what’s the beef? We got the job done. End of story.”
Brognola stared around the table. They were united on this. He could sense it.
“So this is how it’s going to be, huh? Making up and breaking the rules when it suits? Doing it your way, even if it leaves me having to explain it to the President?”
McCarter nodded. “That’s the way it has to be, Hal. Take it or leave it.”
Brognola leaned forward, hands flat on the table. “It doesn’t give me any other options then.” He paused, maintaining his blank expression. “I’m just going to have to ask for a raise. The money I’m getting isn’t enough to cover this kind of crap.”
He let it go at that, relaxing, and waited while it sank in.
Kurtzman broke the silence. “Coffee all ’round?”
“What the hell,” Brognola said. “Count me in.”
He opened the mission file in front of him. “Shadow as we know it has been broken up. Townsend and his chain of command is gone. Jack Regan has slipped the net. No trace, but I guess he’ll surface somewhere else. He has too many contacts to stay out of business for long.”
“Su Han’s body was found two days ago just over the border from Santa Lorca,” Price said. “Two bullets in the back of his head. Execution-style killing.”
“His own people catching up with him?” James suggested. “The Chinese don’t forgive lightly.”
“We may never know,” Brognola said, “but I have a feeling you’re not far off the mark.”
“Let’s stay on Han for a while,” Kurtzman said. “Those flash drives you picked up, T.J. They held a mass of data. The guy must have downloaded his computer before he skipped China. Contacts. Background on Guang Lor and the missile development program. Detail on bank deposits. The involvement of high-ranking officials from Beijing. I figure he must have been hoping to start up again someplace else, so he compiled a little dossier of his own. Names and faces. With that information he would have been able to run one hell of an operation. The data is going to keep our intelligence agencies busy for weeks.”
“Any of it cross-reference with Townsend’s data?” McCarter asked.
“Yes, plus Townsend’s own collection. That guy was an information freak. Once we broke his encryptions, the stuff just kept coming.”
“Not just his Shadow backup,” Brognola said. “Townsend had detail on people in high places in positions that might be regarded as overly sensitive. Government, military and industrial. Some nasty surprises, too. People you wouldn’t expect to be involved with someone like Townsend and his business.”
“Has the President seen these names yet?” Blancanales asked.
Brognola nodded. “Oh, yes, he’s seen them. I’m surprised we can’t hear the heads falling into the Potomac from here. He’s made it this week’s top of the list. Expect to see some resignations any time now.”
“So what have these people been doing?”
“Back-door deals. Laying foundations for future business deals. Political chicanery of the highest order. These people are amazing. They rant on TV about facing our common enemy, then go and arrange a deal with the same people through their front men. Oliver Townsend was just a small cog in their machine. They’re carving up Asia and buying favors in Beijing futures. Military ordnance has become one of the growth industries worldwide. Sons of bitches don’t give a damn that the technology they’re trading could be used back at us. All they see is if they don’t sell to the Chinese someone else will.”
“Market economy gone mad,” Manning said.
“And what about this deal with Tilman?” McCarter asked. “This hit team Gadgets tangled with?”
“The girl, Hendrick, was put on Tilman as a watcher. Her employers, the same ones we’ve just been discussing, were aware of Tilman’s influence within the CIA. They wanted him on their payroll for the word he could get for them on CIA global policy, but once he started to waver they must have decided to cut their losses and remove him before he had a chance to spread any gossip about them. Hence the hit men sent to join the woman on the train. If Gadgets hadn’t been around, they would have succeeded and the attaché case he had with him would have vanished.”
“As it turns out, Tilman had a real bag of tricks there,” Kurtzman said. “Names and faces on disks. A neat little history that sums it all up for us.”
“I guess Tilman couldn’t drop his CIA training,” Brognola said. “He naturally created a file on everyone involved, all summarized and ready to point the finger.”
“Professional to the last,” Price said.
“More than his employers,” Brognola added. “Washington P.D. were called when someone spotted a break-in at Tilman’s apartment. They got there before the perp got away and found him in possession of a suppressed Uzi. He’d found it in a concealed compartment. Tilman’s CIA connection was flagged up later and the Uzi was checked against the bullets from the three dead agents. They matched.”
“So Tilman did ice his own buddies,” Lyons said. “Nice guy.”
“That’s the icing on the cake,” McCarter said. “What I want to hear is the Chinese reaction to our little sojourn in their territory.”
“What do you think happened?” Brognola asked.
“Indignant red faces. Accusations of illegal incursions into peace-loving China. The destruction of an innocent fertilizer plant and the wholesale slaughter of indigenous peasants going about their daily tasks for the good of the Party. Outrageous propaganda lies by the warmongering U.S.A. Faked photographs. No missiles. No stolen technology.”
“And it’s goodnight from 60 Minutes,” James said. “Or in this case, five seconds.”
“Pretty well what happened,” Brognola said. “A delegation had a meeting with the President. They made demands, and he showed them the circuit board and the photographs. Denial. More accusations. Threats. The President lost some of his cool and told them if they wanted to make an issue of it, then okay. He would take everything he had and go public on a global scale. He added that he would also be exhibiting the data files we got from Su Han’s flash drives and expose names and identities of Beijing individuals involved. He dropped a couple of names just to show he wasn’t running a bluff. Apparently that had some kind of calming effect on the delegation. They backed off and said they needed to consult with Beijing themselves. A meeting was arranged for later that day, but the delegation didn’t show. By that time they were on a plane heading home.”
“And nothing since?”
“Our intelligence sources say the bamboo curtain hasn’t rattled once.”
“Is the Man still rattled?” McCarter asked innocently. “Or are we still in his employ?”
“He sends his thanks.”
“I should bloody well hope so. No bonus then?”
“Pushing it again, David.”
“Somebody around here has to. The rest of these old women will just sit here and not say a word.”
Brognola closed his file. “Time you people got out of here. Go where you need to be. Make sure your phones are on standby. Just in case.”
McCarter was first on his feet. “I’m of
f then. First plane to London.”
“I wonder who he’s going to meet?” Hawkins said knowingly.
“A certain young Chinese lady,” Encizo suggested.
“Bloody correct,” McCarter said. “For a proper English breakfast, in a proper English café.”
Price glanced at Brognola. The big Fed shrugged.
“I guess the world must be safe again then,” he said.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-0725-1
CHINA CRISIS
Copyright © 2007 by Worldwide Library.
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Table of Contents
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
China Crisis (Stony Man) Page 28