their eyes, thought Sam.
He was met at the Peking airfield by
an American diplomatic vehicle,
escorted by two flanking Chinese army
cars and eight Chinese army officers.
All smiling; even the vehicles.
The two nervous Americans that came
with the diplomatic car were attaches.
They were anxious to get back to the
mission; neither was comfortable
around the Chinese troops.
Nor did either attache care to discuss
very much of 42
anything except the weather, which was
dull and overcast. Whenever Sam
brought up the subject of MacKenzie
Hawkins_nd why not? he had relieved
himself on their roof their mouths
became taut and they shook their heads
in short, lateral jerks and pointed
their fingers below the windows at
various areas of the automobile. And
laughed at nothing.
Finally Devereaux realized they were
convinced that the diplomatic car was
bugged. So Sam laughed, too. At
nothing.
If the automobile was fitted with
electronic surveillance, and if
someone was listening, thought
Devereaux, that person was probably
conjuring up a picture of three adult
males passing dirty comics back and
forth.
And if the ride from the airfield
seemed strange to Sam, his half-hour
meeting with the ambassador at the
diplomatic mission in Glorious Flower
Square was ludicrous.
He was ushered into the building by
his cackling escorts, greeted solemnly
by a group of serious-faced Americans
who had gathered in the hallway like
onlookers in a zoological
laboratory unsure of their safety but
fascinated by the new animal brought
in for observatior~and propelled
quickly down a corridor to a large
door that was obviously the entrance
to the ambassador's office. Once
inside, the ambassador greeted him
with a rapid handshake, simultaneously
raising a finger over his slightly
quivering moustache. One of the
escorts removed a small metal device
about the size of a pack of cigarettes
and began waving it around the windows
as though blessing the panes of glass.
The ambassador watched the man.
"I can't be sure," whispered the
attache.
"Why not?" asked the diplomat.
"The needle moved a touch, but it
could be the Joudspeakers in the
square."
"Damn1 We have to get more
sophisticated scanners. Scramble a
memo to Washington." The ambassador
took Sam s elbow, leading him back to
the door. "Come with me, General."
"I'm a major."
"That's nice."
The ambassador propelled Sam out of the
office, across 43
the corridor to another door, which he
opened, and then preceded Devereaux
down a steep flight of stone steps
into a large basement. There was a
single light bulb on the wall; the
ambassador snapped it on and led Sam
past a number of wooden crates to
another door in the barely visible
wall. It was heavy and the diplomat
had to put his foot against the
surrounding cement in order to pull it
open.
Inside was a long-out-of-use,
walk-in refrigerator, now serving as
a wine cellar.
The ambassador entered and struck a
match. On one of the racks was a
candle, half burned down. The
ambassador held the flame to the wick,
and the light swelled ffickeringly
against the walls and the racks. The
wine was not the best observed
Devereaux silently.
The ambassador reached out and
yanked Sam into the center of the
small enclosure and then pulled the
heavy door almost shut, but not
completely.
His lean, aristocratic features
accentuated by the wavering flame of
the candle, the ambassador smiled
apologetically.
"We may strike you as a touch
paranoid, but it's not the case at
all, I can assure you."
"Oh, no, sir. This is very cozy. And
quiet."
Sam tried to return the ambassador's
smile. And for the next thirty minutes
he received his last instructions from
his government. It was an appropriate
place to get them: deep underground,
the surrounding earth inhabited by
worms that never saw the light of day.
Armed with his briefcase and no
courage whatsoever, Devereaux walked
out the mission's white steel door, to
be greeted by a Chinese officer who
waved at him from the foot of the
path. Sam saw for the first time the
evidence of wreckage large splinters
of wood, several angle irons lying
about on the lawn.
The officer stood outside the border
of the property and grinned a flat
grin. "My name is Lin Shoo, Major
Deveroxx. I will escort you to
Lieutenant General Hawkins. My car
should you please."
Sam clinked into the back seat of
the army staff vehicle and settled
back, his case on his lap. As opposed
to the 44
nervous Americans, Lin Shoo was not at
all inhibited about talking. The
subject quickly became MacKenzie
Hawkins.
"A highly volatile individual, Major
Deveroxx," said the Chinese, shaking
his head. "He is possessed by dragons."
"Has anyone tried reasoning with him?"
'1, myself. With great and charming
persuasion."
' But not with great or charming
success, I gather."
"What can I tell you? He assaulted
me. It wasn't proper at all.'
"And you want a full-scale trail
because of that? The ambassador said
you were adamant. A trial or a lot of
hazzerai."
"Hazzerai?"
"It means trouble. It's Jewish."
"You don't look Jewish...."
"What about this trial?" interrupted
Sam. "Are the charges centered on
assault?"
"Oh, no. That would not be
philosophically consistent. We expect
to suffer physically. Through struggle
and suf
- fering there is strength." Lin Shoo
smiled; Devereaux
- didn't know why. "The general will be
tried for crimes against the
motherland."
"An extension of the original
charge," said Sam, making a quiet
statement.
- "Far more complex, however," replied
Lin Shoo, his smile fading into
resigned depression. "Willful
destruction
roof national shrines not unlike your
Li
nkolon Memorials. He escaped once,
you know. With a stolen truck he ran
into the statuary on Son Tai Square. He
is now charged with defacement of
venerated artistic craftsmanship the
statuary he ran into was sculptured
after the designs of the chairman's
wife. And there can be no
counterargument concerning drugs for
this. He was seen by too many
diplomatic people. He made great sums
of noise in Son Tail"
"He'll claim extenuating
circumstances." No harm in testing,
thought Devereaux.
"As with assault, there is no such
thing."
"I see." Sam didn't but there was no
point pursuing it. "What could he
draw?"
45
"How so? Draw? The sculpture?"
"Prison. What sort of prison sentence?
How long?"
"Roughly four thousand, seven hundred
and fifty years."
"What? You might as well execute him!"
"Life is precious to the sons and
daughters of the motherland. Every
living thing is capable of
contribution. Even a vicious criminal
like your maniac imperialist general.
He could have many productive years in
Mongolia."
"Now just hold on!" Devereaux
changed his position abruptly to look
Lin Shoo full in the face. He could
not be sure, but he thought he heard
a metallic click from the front seat.
Not unlike the of a pistol's safety
catch.
He decided not to thinktabout it. It
was better that way. He returned his
attention to Lin Shoo.
"That's crazy! You know that's just
plain dumb! What the hell are you
talking about? Four
thousand Mongolia?" Devereaux's
attache case fell out of his lap; he
heard again the metallic click. "I
mean, let's be reasonable.-. ."
Devereaux's words drifted off
nervously. He picked up the leather
case.
'1hese are the legitimate penalties
for the crimes," said Lin Shoo. "No
foreign government has the right to
interfere with the internal discipline
of its host nation. It is
inconceivable. However, in this
particular case, perhaps, it is not
entirely unreasonable."
Sam paused before speaking; he
watched the scowl on Lin Shoo's face
return slightly, ever so slightly, to
its previous polite, unhumorous smile.
"Do I detect the beginnings of an
out-of-court settlement?"
"How so? Out of court?"
"A compromise. Do we talk about a
compromise?"
Lin Shoo now allowed the scowl to
float away. His smile came as close to
being genial as Devereaux could
imagine. "Please, yes. A compromise
would be enlightening. There is
strength, also, in enlightenment."
"And maybe a little less than four
thousand years in Mongolia in the
compromise?"
"Fraught with possibilities. Should
you suffled where others have not.
After all, it is to our mutual
advantage to reach a compromise."
46
"I hope you know how right you are.
Hawkins is a national hero."
"So was your Speeroo Agaroo, Major.
Your President said so himself."
"What can you offer? Dispense with the
trials"
Lin Shoo dropped his smile, too
suddenly for comfort thought Sam.
"We cannot do that. The trial has
been announced. Too many people in the
international community know of it."
"You want to save face, or do you
want to sell gas?" Devereaux sat back;
the Chinese officer did want a com-
promise.
"A little of both is a compromise, is
it not?"
"What's your little? In the event I
can get Hawkins to be reasonable.
"A reduction of the sentence would
be one consideraffon." Lin Shoo's
smile returned
"From four thousand to twenty-five
hundred years?" asked Devereaux.
"You're all heart. Let's start with
probation; I 11 concede acquittal.
"How so? Probation?"
"I'll explain later; you'll like it.
Give me some real incentive to work on
Hawkins." Sam fingered the top of his
attache case, tapping his nails on the
leather. It was a silly thing that
usually split adversaries'
concentration and sometimes produced
a hasty concession.
"A Chinese trial takes many forms.
Long, ornate, and quite ritualistic.
Or very short, swift, and devoid of
excess. Three months or three hours.
I can, perhaps, bring about the latter
"
"That and probation, I'll buy," said
Sam quickly. "That's incentive enough
to make me want to work real hard.
You've got a deal."
"This probation. You will have to
define more legalistically."
"Basically, you not only save face
and sell gas, but you can show how
tough you are and Stan be heroes in the
world press. All at the same time.
What could be better than that?"
Lin Shoo smiled. Devereaux wondered
briefly if there wasn't more
understanding beyond that smile than
the Chinese cared to show. Then he
dismissed the thought; 47
Lin Shoo distracted him by asking a
question and answering it before Sam
could speak.
'What could be better than that?
Having General Hawkins out of China.
Yes, that would be better."
"What a coincidence. Because that's
one insignificant part of
probation."
"Really?" Lin Shoo looked straight
ahead.
"You, I can handle," said Sam,
almost reflectively. "I've still got
to worry about Brand X."
48
CHAPTER Sew
The cell could be seen clearly through
a single pane of unidirectional glass
embedded in the heavy steel door.
There was a western-style bed, a
writing desk recessed overhead lights,
both a desk lamp and bedside light,
and a large rug on the floor. There
was an open door on the right wall
that led to a small bathroom, and a
horizontal clothes rack on the leR.
The room was no more than ten feet by
twelve feet, but all things
considered, far grander than Sam had
visualized.
The only thing missing was MacKenzie
Hawkins.
"You see," said Lin Shoo, "how
considerate we are, how well appointed
are the general's accommodations?"
"I'm impressed," replied Devereaux.
"Except I don't see the general."
"Oh, he is there." The Chinese
smiled and spoke s
oRly. "He has his
little games. He hears the footsteps
and conceals himself on either side of
the door. Twice the guards were
alarmed and made ill-considered
entrances. Fortunately, there were
several to overcome the general's
strength. Now all the ships are
alerted. His meals are delivered
through a slot."
"He's still trying...." Sam chuckled.
"He's something."
"He is many things," added Lin Shoo
enigmatically as he approached a
webbed circle beneath the
unidirectional glass and pushed a red
button. "General Hawkins? Please
General, show yourself. It is your
good and gracious friend, Lin Shoo. I
know you are beside the door General."
"Up your ass, slant eyes!"
Lin Shoo released the button
momentarily and turned to Devereaux.
"He is not always the essence of
courtesy." 49
The Chinese returned to the speaker
and pushed the button again. "Please,
General, I have a countryman of yours
with me. A representative of your
government. From the armed forces of
your nation "
"You better check her goddamned
purse! Maybe up her skirt! Her
lipstick might be a bomb!" came the
shout from the unseen general officer.
Lin Shoo turned back to Devereaux in
bewilderment. Sam gently moved the
Chinese out of the way, pushed the
button himself, and yelled into the
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