by T I WADE
There were sounds and words of shock from many of the men around the table. Comrade Lee returned to his seat and there was complete silence in the room. The Chairman got up from his chair and approached the podium.
“Interesting, Comrade Lee,” mused the Chairman. The room was breathless with anticipation about what was going to happen to the man who just had called the Chairman obsolete. “I thank you for your report and ideas on current China. I also appreciate your frankness about our 30-year old program, and in many ways, I agree with you. One thing we did not predict was change, advancement, and the ideas modern society would instill in humanity. We as a planet have changed faster and faster over the last three decades. We at Zedong Electronics have noticed this through the rapid advancement of keeping control of the modern parts and electrical gadgetry given to us by our spies and workers around the world. Comrade Lee, I thank you for being honest and allowing your thoughts of our project into this meeting. I believe that reality is a necessary equation we must all deal with every day. Fortunately for us, our 30-year project is nearly complete and we must continue to fulfill our destiny. Comrade Lee, I believe like you that our attack scenario is going to be the making or breaking of our program, and I have been working with members of our armed forces and government for the last year. All I can say is that there is a scenario in place, and we will cover that at our next and final meeting before the start of ‘Z’ Day—a couple of years from now. I now call on Comrade Wang to give his report on our men in the field.” Mo Wang got up and went forward.
“Comrade Chairman, fellow comrades. It is an honor to give my report to you today.”
He started off a little more respectfully since he was a new and younger man in this week-long meeting. “All of our departments have succeeded in our program, including the one I am currently in charge of. It has been a big learning experience watching our citizens and comrades going off to every part of the world imaginable. Before the passing of my comrade boss, I was in charge of our biggest unit within the department—the exportation of our people into the United States of America and Canada. So I will first give you a full report in my new capacity as the Head of Department and the whole world, and then a short report on North America. The program got off the ground as soon as Zedong Electronics was formed in the early 1980s. We had our first operative in place within three weeks of the first meeting that I did not have the pleasure of attending in this board room.”
“The complete “Global Village,” as we called the project on the island north of Shanghai, was completed a year after the first man went over. The startup of the project cost US$50 million to build and then US$20 million a year to run. It is still in operation 25 years later, and has cost a total of US$560 million. In its lifetime, we have secured, taught, and sent 1,700,000 operatives into the world outside Asia and another 300,000 operatives within Asia. Our costs include the three universities we had built here at a cost of US$20 million per university, as well as bonuses and operational costs and needs once the operatives reached their destinations. The total also includes a loan of US$125 million to our country’s airline in 1985 when it needed to lease new aircraft to grow its international travel. This loan and the lease of new aircraft from Boeing also gave us entrance into Boeing headquarters, and we have cleaned all their offices worldwide ever since.”
The boardroom laughed at the interesting remark. “Of the two million operatives, 83% have given us the information we needed to get where we are today. Of the rest, 14% could not stand living in the ‘outside world,’ and returned to work in our local offices in many important positions. Only 1% needed to be terminated. I believe that our numbers show our success in recruitment. The balance of 2% did not survive in the foreign country they were assigned and died or became unstable mentally within the first year of transfer. Of the 40,000 in this category, most were single men. The biggest problem was driving motor vehicles for the first time in their lives. We lost 30% of these people due to car accidents. Another 35% were in other forms of accidents—so many different types that I could spend the next few weeks explaining them. It is unbelievable what happens to people in the world. Thirty percent of this group, or 12,000 operatives, tried to become citizens of their new country, found a spouse, and forgot that we had introduced them to their new life. Of these people, 10,000 were terminated by our termination squads over 25 years, or about 450 per year. These operatives were in over 170 countries and no notice was taken of their ‘natural’ or ‘accidental’ deaths at all. We have a very refined termination program that does not cause attention with any authorities in any country. The remaining 2,000 where returned to China and either used in other positions if they had certain skills we needed, or terminated. Of the last 5%, or 8,000 operatives, we have 2,200 in extremely powerful positions around the world that are sleepers for when we might need them. Another 5,500 are in military service somewhere and ready to relay information once our program is put into operation.”
“That leaves 300 operatives who just disappeared off the radar screens and have never been heard from since. My best estimates are that many of them were killed once somebody was not happy about them being around, or did not like our system and became outlaws to Zedong Electronics. Some might be in hiding and still on our side. They all have the technology and know-how to contact us, and maybe they will after the start of our program.”
There were a few murmurs from different listeners. “Now, to get to the really exciting news! Of the 83% of our successful operatives, or 1,690,000 people we trained and sent out there, 90% of those have given us one to three important contacts or pieces of information and now live happy lives wherever they are. They completed their missions and cost us very little. Of the balance, 9% gave us information, or got us into high-risk establishments, both civilian and military, and gave us five to ten contacts. These are living happy lives with families, have been paid a retirement package, and are now retired. Almost 1% of the balance are still operatives and will give us anything new, even though we don’t need any more information or contacts. They are just monitoring the systems we have in place, and at this time these very successful operatives have given us over 20 contacts during active service and are still being paid an income by us. The last and smallest group of people, the last 0.01% or 170 of our best people (and I’m proud to say that I found 70 of them over the last 25 years) have completed and found 70% of all the contacts and information we have needed so far—such a small group with so much success.”
“Now let me complete my report with a look at North America. In my initial department of control— the United States of America and Canada—115 of these 170 most successful operatives worked in my area. A couple of operatives are still based in Canada and gave us Blackberry and several other important companies, but America was the most important part in the whole Operative Department. We sent the best to America and these people gave us everything from DOS to Apple iPhones, from Microsoft to Sun Microsystems, and from Chevrolet to NASA’s space programs. For example, even though the current space shuttle project ends this year, we have over 12,000 electrical parts in each of their space shuttles, just in case they decide to lengthen the project. Europe and Australia were just as important, but because our attack will start in the United States, it is imperative to have our first success there, in the most powerful nation on earth. Thank you.”
There was another standing ovation and Mo Wang waited for questions.
“A great accomplishment, Comrade Wang,” stated Ri Yun who was to be the fourth and last speaker before lunch. All 16 members of the board would give their report, but there were only four scheduled per day, with the afternoon time set for discussion and arguments regarding the morning’s reports.
Ri Yun continued, “I assume by your report that the majority of our operatives know very little about the big picture?”
“That is correct, Comrade Yun,” was Mo Wang’s reply.
“They are not a problem for Zedong electronics in the futu
re and are forgotten?” Mo Wang nodded yes. “Then what is your department’s protocol with the men who have done a great service for the program—the 170 super operatives and the other 0.99%, or by my figures another 1,600 operatives, who do know a lot about the information and contacts they have gathered for us and could be embarrassing in the near future and are past our program time?”
“An unfortunate question you ask, Comrade Yun,” was Mo Wang’s reply. “Of the 1,600 operatives, the Chairman feels the need to terminate all of them who know certain information that could be embarrassing, as you described. More than 100 termination squads will be deployed at the beginning of next year and these necessary terminations will be completed by the end of 2011. They are in six countries and there will be no problems making them and their families disappear. It is a shame, but necessary to do this to our brave and best-producing troops. There will be no pain and death will be fast and all under accidental circumstances. Of the best 170 operatives, 157 of them will be terminated closer to the last few months by the same squads in four countries, but mostly the United States and Canada. They are still in their positions giving us important information weekly. The remaining 13 of our extreme elite operatives are planned to be terminated in December. Any missed operatives are expected to be terminated shortly after the beginning of the New Year, or if they slip through our fingers, they are expected be terminated by the American people in the expected mass panic.” There was silence as Mo Wang took his seat.
Mo was quite sad, as many of the people he had just described had become good friends of his over the years. He knew their wives and children, their successes, and he did not enjoy being their executioner. It was not within his authority to let them live. His mind turned to his nephew Lee Wang, his best operative of all—the man who had gotten them a dozen very large information packets that ended up being billion-dollar contracts with the larger American computer companies. Lee Wang had swept the floors as Bill Gates and Steve Jobs walked by him, had played chess with Warren Buffett, been introduced to the boss at NASA as a Chinese professor and had solved a problem they had, and had even shaken the hands of the Clintons when Bill was President. Lee, his wife, and now-grown daughter were his family, and they were the last termination order in December in Salt Lake City. This thought made Mo Wang a sad man.
Chapter 11
Christmas in North Carolina
The long-range weather forecast looked good for North Carolina over Christmas and the New Year. Preston was studying future weather conditions around the country for his fly-in and the temperatures looked a little above average for the season. A storm was expected in Seattle and Portland by the end of the week, due to hit the Rockies just before Christmas and then pass to the north over New York and Boston on New Year’s Eve. It was a cold Saturday morning on December 15th, and Preston was drinking his first cup of coffee and looking at the computer screen in front of him. On the NOAA website and a few good pilot websites, several variations of the long-term weather forecast could be viewed all the way up to the last day of the year.
Winter was expected to be warmer and drier than normal in the Carolinas and across much of the central United States. There was not a freeze date shown, but temperatures were expected to drop into the upper 30s closer to New Year’s Eve. Rain was in the forecast the last two days of the year, but coming from a southwesterly direction, and that meant warmer air bringing in moisture. The next storm on the West coast was projected to be a slow-moving one, and was not expected to hit Salt Lake City with snow until the weekend before Christmas.
Martie came into the lounge freshly showered with her hair wrapped in a towel, carrying a plate of toast with marmalade, and set it down beside the mouse Preston was using.
“Thanks. Weather is still looking good for Christmas,” Preston said. “It wouldn’t be much fun if we had a white Christmas and had to shovel the entire runway for takeoff.”
“We’ve only had one white Christmas since the 40s,” answered Martie, “and that was two years ago. I don’t think there’s much chance of a white-out.”
“It’s looking a little problematic for Carlos from Friday night onwards, though. There’s a new storm expected in Seattle and I’m sure he’s looking at the weather later today, too. I’ll call him and see if we should expect him a day or two earlier.” Preston clicked to another website as he was talking. “Buck might have to leave a day or two early as well. The snowy weather over Denver right now looks bad for New York starting early on Monday. New York is going to get at least an inch or more of snow the day before Christmas and then a really big storm over New Year’s. He was going to leave early on the 24th and be down here for lunch. It’s certainly going to be a white Christmas for the Northeast. This latest storm is moving slowly and is going to pack a punch with snowfall.”
“Since we will experience a beautiful day this coming Monday, Mr. Weatherman, with no clouds, a slight breeze from the north, and temperatures in the upper 40s to mid-50s, why don’t we take our P-51s out over the Outer Banks and then follow the coast down to Charleston, or even further, or until we need to return in a triangle back to base. We haven’t had a decent day’s flying for months now, and we could even ask your buddy Colonel Mondale for permission to fly into Seymour Johnson to visit. He might even offer us a cup of coffee,” suggested Martie.
“Best idea I’ve heard all day,” answered Preston, looking for his cell phone. Colonel Mondale had been a friend of Preston’s for several years. They had met at a fly-in in Jacksonville, Florida and found out that they only lived 40 miles apart. It had been the first fly-in where Preston had displayed his new P-51, and the Colonel had flown down in an Apache attack helicopter to represent the U.S. Air Force.
They met again once or twice at other aircraft gatherings, and when he told the Colonel that he was about to take possession of an old P-38 Lightning, the Colonel offered Preston the option of flying into Seymour Johnson any time he wanted to show him the new plane. That had been a year ago, and Martie’s suggestion to finally give the Colonel his viewing was an excellent one. Preston hinted to Martie that they might even be offered lunch if he flew the P-38 instead of the Mustang.
It took a couple of minutes and clicks on Monday morning as the call was connected through to the base. It was only 8:00 in the morning, and a few seconds later the Colonel’s voice came on the line. After a few pleasantries, Preston explained their plans and Martie could hear the excitement on the line when the head of Seymour Johnson Air Force Base in Goldsboro responded positively to the visit of both a P-38 and a P-51.
Civilian aircraft flying in tight formation was not normally allowed, except with prior permission, and Preston asked the Colonel if he could grant permission for two aircraft to fly in formation from a southerly direction and then into Seymour air space. The Colonel responded that he could give permission in North Carolina only, but if they kept out to sea further down the coast, he thought that little interference would be made by traffic control if they stayed a couple hundred yards apart.
Both aircraft were already fueled up when Preston phoned Carlos to see what his plans were. Carlos was up, had seen the storm on the news, and told Preston that he would be leaving Friday by midday. They should expect him just before dark.
Preston wheeled out Martie’s P-51 first with his small tractor, and then did the same with his own aircraft, parking them on the apron at such an angle that when they fired up, the air from aircraft’s propellers wouldn’t hit the hangar door. The two gleaming aircraft certainly looked beautiful waiting for them on the chilly, sparkling morning, and as usual, the blood pressure of both pilots rose as they looked at the aircraft waiting for them to fly. Life was certainly worth living!
The major difference, apart from the engines and frames of both aircraft was that Martie’s P-51 had a rear wheel and Preston’s much larger twin-engine P-38 had a front wheel. And Martie’s aircraft was silver, while the P-38 was still painted in camouflage colors.
They climbed abo
ard their aircraft and hit the starter motors. Within seconds all three engines coughed out their usual belch of dark smoke and were warming up nicely. Because of the colder weather, they let the engines run for a few minutes longer than normal to warm up. Both pilots had dozens of pre-flight checks to do anyway. They took their time and talked to each other over their intercoms as they mentally ticked off each check.
As with all aircraft, pre-flight checks were necessary before they took off, but they had always been kept to a minimum in fighter aircraft due to the built-in urgency to get off the ground as quickly as possible. Most of the checks had to do with fuel flow, wing and propeller configurations, engine pressure and temperatures, and then their outside surroundings—other aircraft and weather conditions.
“Wind is about five miles an hour from due west, with slight gusts,” Preston informed Martie over his radio. The runway ran from southeast to northwest in a 290/110 degree configuration, and he had built it in this direction because most of the wind in his area was either from the west or north in winter, and the south in summer.
“Martie, you taxi out and take off first, do a left turn out towards the lake and wait until we get permission from Raleigh Traffic Control before we climb above 5,000 feet.”
They had both filed flight plans with the controlling air traffic control based at RDU over the computer earlier that morning. Anybody could fly without a flight plan up to a certain altitude. Preston always flew this way with the crop sprayer, due to not being involved with any commercial traffic under that level. Aircraft from, or going into, Raleigh-Durham International (RDU) were usually well above 10,000 feet over Preston’s area. Military aircraft also tended to stay away from commercial flight lanes, and Preston did not often see military flights over the farm. Martie acknowledged him, increased the throttle, and taxied out to the south end of the runway while Preston went through his additional pre-flight checks for two engines.