by Ted Halstead
Once the helicopter's blades stopped turning, Yang and Shi exited and saw an Army colonel was hurrying forward to meet them.
The colonel gave Shi a crisp salute and barked, "Welcome to Ziyou Island, General Shi! I am Colonel Xia, and it will be my honor to brief you on our progress."
Shi nodded, and returned the salute. "Colonel, this is General Yang, the Air Force Commander. Treat any question from him as coming from me. Let's go straight to your briefing."
"Yes, sir. Please follow me," Xia said, leading the way to the closest temporary building.
Well, Yang thought to himself wryly, this island's size did have one advantage.
Wherever you were going, you wouldn't have to walk far.
As they walked inside, Yang saw with approval that Xia had kept it simple. One whiteboard and two chairs.
It went without saying that Xia would be standing.
It didn't take long for Xia to finish his briefing. If he were to be believed, Shi's troops would indeed finish constructing the airbase on time.
Yang was still skeptical.
"Colonel, you still have bulldozers grading the surface area designated for the runway. How will you pave it in time for my planes' arrival?" Yang asked.
"Sir, we will meet the deadline by using landing mats," Xia said.
"Landing mats?" Yang repeated with a frown. "I've seen them used for cargo helicopter landing pads. Are they safe for jet fighters?"
"Yes, sir. At our direction, a state-owned company purchased mats and associated equipment several years ago from a firm in the United Kingdom. Our company reverse-engineered the mats and equipment and then put them into production for our sole use," Xia said.
Yang grunted and thought for a moment. Now, this rang a bell. The UK company had sued in a Chinese court and was still waiting for a hearing date.
Yang remembered being amused by the UK company's belief that it was doing anything but enriching several Chinese lawyers.
"Describe these landing mats," Yang ordered.
"Yes, sir. They are aluminum panels designed to be inter-locked by troops with only basic instruction. After grading is complete, we will lay down a geotextile membrane to suppress dust before installing the panels. The panels will be secured to the ground with multiple anchor stakes. Of course, I will personally inspect the work before declaring the airstrip ready for use," Xia said.
"See that you do, Colonel," Yang growled.
Then Yang was surprised by a question from Shi. "How much do each of these panels weigh, Colonel?" Shi asked.
"About fifty-one kilos, sir. We are using panels rated to support heavy cargo aircraft. More than required by your orders, sir, but I did it for two reasons. First, they don't take much longer to assemble than the lighter version. Next, we'll be ready in case you need to resupply this base quickly by air or send more troops," Xia replied.
Shi nodded. "I wondered when I saw the heavy weights listed on the cargo manifests of the ships offshore, and now I have my answer. Well, I left those details to you, and agree with your decision. General Yang, your thoughts?"
Yang also nodded. "Agreed, General. I'd much rather have a paved runway. If there's no time for that, though, a temporary runway designed to carry the weight of even cargo aircraft is the next best thing for my fighters. I do have one more question, though."
Yang paused and pointed at the whiteboard. "Your presentation was quite thorough in every respect but one. How do you plan to fuel my aircraft?"
Xia tried hard to keep his expression impassive but failed. "Sir, ordinarily, we would have fixed fuel storage structures and buried, reinforced supply lines leading from those structures to your aircraft. However, we don't have the time for that. So, we are using temporary plastic fuel lines, which we will have replaced with properly buried metal pipes within a few days."
Yang glanced at Shi, who shrugged.
Yang wasn't happy. But with this timetable, it wasn't a surprise.
"Colonel, there are two primary risks to my aircraft. The first is a soldier who tosses his cigarette anywhere near a temporary fuel line. The second is enemy attack. Given current military realities, I'm much more worried about the first," Yang said.
"Sir, if I catch any soldier with a cigarette or a lighter on this island, I'll shoot him myself," Xia said.
Yang nodded, satisfied. He could hear the sincerity he was looking for in Xia's voice.
Turning to Shi, Yang said, "General, please make addressing the fuel situation the top priority here. Even ahead of a paved runway, which I hope will follow shortly."
"Understood, General," Shi said. Fixing a cool stare on Xia, Shi said, "I'm sure the colonel is aware that temporary fuel lines and the explosive ordnance carried by your combat aircraft are a dangerous combination."
Xia nodded rapidly. "Yes, sir. General, I will report to you directly as soon as the work is complete."
"Very well, Colonel. Obviously, you have a lot of work to get to, so I'm canceling the tour you had planned. I'll walk around the base with General Yang a little later. Please make sure we're not disturbed in the meantime," Shi said.
Yang wasn't surprised to see that Xia didn't like that at all, though he did his best to keep that from his face. He sympathized since no officer would be happy to have his superior wandering unchecked around his command.
Luckily for Xia, in this case, Yang and Shi weren't doing it this way to catch him out.
"Yes, sir," Xia said, saluted, and left. Within moments, Yang and Shi had the building to themselves.
Shi stood and walked over to a small table nearby with a kettle and the fixings for tea. He poured a cup for each of them and then sipped from his.
Shi grimaced but shrugged.
Yang reached for his cup nevertheless. He could see from the steam rising above it that at least it was hot. Only a fool would expect a gourmet brew under these circumstances.
"Sorry about the fuel situation. I didn't know it was this bad until just now," Shi said.
"Not your fault. Not the Colonel's either. We both know who's really responsible," Yang said bitterly.
From a lifetime of habit, Shi looked around the empty building before responding. Even then, all he did was nod.
"We also know there's no real military reason for the chances we're taking here," Yang said. "The Americans didn't stop the launch of the Spaceship carrying more Internet satellites, so this base was the supposed price for their defiance. How much sleep do you think they've lost as a result?"
"Not much," Shi said. "But what about that Spaceship blowing up? What sort of a message did that send?"
Yang looked at Shi sharply. "Are you suggesting we did that? How? Did you hear something?"
Shi held up his free hand. Yang was sure he would have held up both if one wasn't still holding a teacup.
"I've heard nothing," Shi said. "But you have to admit, it's quite a coincidence."
Yang grunted. "Maybe. But it's not the first time the Americans have lost a rocket."
"True," Shi said, nodding. "Still, if it turns out we were behind it, everyone here should keep their head on a swivel. This base is a long way from help if the Americans decide to get revenge."
Yang shrugged. "We have thrown one provocation after another at the Americans, and they have yet to do anything. You remember the Hainan Island incident in 2001?"
Shi nodded but said nothing. An American reconnaissance aircraft had been rammed by a Chinese fighter jet and forced to land on Hainan Island. All twenty-four crewmembers had been interrogated for the next ten days, and their EP-3E was held even after their release. It was finally returned to the US three months later disassembled after they had squeezed every useful bit of information from it.
They had even forced the Americans to apologize for the death of the Chinese airman who had rammed his jet into their plane. And pay for the food they had fed the American prisoners.
"Anyway, the real point is that neither of us should be out here. We both know the real prize is
hundreds of kilometers north," Yang said.
Shi nodded again and sighed.
At first, Yang thought Shi would continue his silence, but finally, he said, "You're right. I've been waiting for us to move on Taiwan since I joined the Army. We're no closer today than we were then. Instead, we're wasting time in places like this and the Indian border."
"That's right," Yang said, nodding vigorously. "If either of us wants that to change, we have to act."
Shi still looked uncertain. "Are you sure you have reliable men ready to carry out your part of the plan?"
Yang did his best to project total confidence as he replied. "Yes, I am sure. Even better, Lin's successor is looking forward to his promotion."
Shi looked both startled and unhappy. "You have spoken with Vice President Gu directly? Was that wise?"
Yang shrugged. "I'm still here. If Gu was content to remain where he is, I'm sure we'd both be in custody right now."
Yang knew there was no point in telling Shi he wouldn't betray him if he were arrested. The interrogation methods used on those the Party considered traitors would force the truth from anyone, and quickly. Pretending otherwise was wishful thinking.
Shi clearly understood the logic in Yang's statement.
But Yang could see Shi was still worried.
So Yang added, "I also pointed out to our friend that if he were to change his mind about our arrangement, he would still be at risk. Above all, the Party would wonder why we thought it safe to approach Gu with details of our plans."
Shi grunted agreement. "A good point. Gu has made no secret of his ambitions. And with every day that has passed since you met Gu and he failed to report you, his guilt has grown."
Shi paused and still looked uncertain. Then he straightened and looked Yang in the eye.
"I will need more time to convince all those necessary in my command that action must be taken. If I misjudge anyone, I will need more time on top of that to silence them. Still, I will soon be ready to begin concrete preparations. Do you have a target date for our strike?" Shi asked.
Yang smiled and began telling Shi all the details of his plan.
Soon the military, not the Party, would be in charge in China.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
En Route to Laredo, Texas
Boris Kharlov had kept himself busy on the first part of their drive out of Florida searching their sedan's radio for news programs. They had abandoned their van outside Orlando after first burning the logo Alina had removed from it before they left Cocoa Beach.
Kharlov's eyebrows had climbed as he saw how quickly the plastic logo was consumed once lit.
Alina had nodded and said, "The solution applied to the van's surface to provide the chemical bond keeping the logo in place was just as flammable. Remember I mentioned drawbacks were preventing commercial use?"
They were driving just a few miles per hour over the speed limit, which kept them firmly in the right lane with almost all traffic passing them on the left. Kharlov agreed with Alina's speed, though. It was the wrong time to risk an encounter with traffic police.
Anyway, their speed was high enough that not long after Kharlov found a station focused on news, its signal began to weaken, and he had to start searching again.
In the back seat, Neda Rhahbar smiled at his frustration and held up her phone so Kharlov could see it.
"I'm going from one news site online to another back here. If we were successful, we'll know," Neda said.
Kharlov nodded but said, "I'll stick with old technology, if you don't mind. We'll see who gets there first."
Alina paid no attention to either of them and stayed focused on the traffic ahead. In particular, she was looking for any sign of slowing traffic that might announce an upcoming roadblock.
All their heads turned to the radio when the news came, though, that the rocket had exploded.
When the broadcast continued to include the details that the explosion had happened at high altitude and caused no casualties, all three of them cheered.
Alina slowly exhaled, only then realizing just how tense she had been. "Well done, you two," she said quietly.
"How long until we get out of Florida?" Kharlov asked.
Alina frowned. "It will be some time yet. It is about an eight-hour drive from Cocoa Beach to the Alabama border on this road."
Kharlov nodded. "Right. I forgot that we are passing through what they call the 'Panhandle.' And about another fifteen hours of driving after that to reach Laredo?"
"Yes," Alina replied, nodding. “You should also add several hours to account for gas and meal breaks. Plus congestion around the major cities we will pass. We need to talk about what we'll do after we reach Laredo."
Kharlov shook his head. "No, I think we should discuss my departing before we reach the Mexican border."
Alina frowned and shook her head. "My orders specify that I am responsible for returning you both safely to Russia. I can't do that if you wander off on your own."
"Your orders didn't anticipate what happened in Cocoa Beach. I am the only one that policeman saw. We collected his body and dashboard cameras, but he will certainly provide a likeness through a sketch artist once he regains consciousness. He got a good look at me and appeared both intelligent and observant," Kharlov said.
Alina shook her head. "Even if they distribute such as a sketch to agents at every border crossing, the chances of matching it to you are low."
"Maybe," Kharlov said with a shrug. "But he also saw my work order, with a woman's name on it. He must have heard Neda moving in the tunnel. And though he didn't see your face, he must have seen your arm. A woman's arm. So, he knows there were two women and one man there."
Alina chewed on her lower lip and shook her head even more stubbornly. "No. Neda could have come out through another exit, and so there could be just one woman and one man."
Kharlov's eyebrows rose. "Really? They will search that tunnel and confirm it had only one way in or out. That was under observation by the policeman from the moment I exited, including when he would have heard Neda's movement in the tunnel. No. They will be looking for two women and one man."
Alina sighed, defeated. "Very well. What do you propose?"
"Once we near Laredo, exit the highway and let me make my way across the border on foot. I will make my way south and then back to Russia. I'm sure the FSB staff at our Embassy in Mexico City will be able to help make arrangements." Kharlov said.
Alina looked at Kharlov incredulously. "There are so many problems with what you've just said, I hardly know where to start."
Kharlov shrugged. "Well, we have plenty of time. Start at the beginning."
Shaking her head, Alina said, "I will do just that. Crossing the border near Laredo will require either a boat or swimming across the Rio Grande River. People drown attempting that every year."
Alina held up her hand as Kharlov started to object. "Fine. You were Spetsnaz, and you know how to swim. Let's suppose you survive the river crossing. The Mexican side is lined with criminals called coyotes, who routinely rob and kidnap anyone crossing the border who has not paid them in advance. Of course, they usually encounter victims going in the other direction, but they will see you as prey the moment they spot you regardless."
Kharlov grinned wolfishly. "They will not find me so easy to capture."
"Perhaps not," Alina replied. "But you will be alone and in unfamiliar territory. They will know every rock and tree and travel in heavily armed groups. I think you underestimate the danger."
"Very well. Propose a better solution. Or tell me there is no risk in having all three of us cross the border together," Kharlov replied.
Alina said nothing for several minutes as she continued to drive and scan the highway ahead for roadblocks.
"You are right that traveling as a group is a risk. And the policeman will produce a sketch. I have trouble believing it will be enough to identify you. But if you are detained, the risk of your identification as an FSB agent is
indeed unacceptable," Alina said and paused.
"Fine. Your plan is approved in all but one respect. You must not contact our Embassy in Mexico City under any circumstances," Alina said.
"Why not?" Kharlov asked. He was sure he looked every bit as surprised as he felt.
"Because your departure on a flight from Toronto to Moscow via Paris, along with Neda, was recorded by Canadian authorities yesterday. That's after both of you had your Canadian entry registered after leaving Buffalo via the Peace Bridge. As a matter of routine, your travel was reported to all our other posts in the region except Havana," Alina said.
Kharlov nodded slowly. "Two other agents who looked like us, with diplomatic passports in our identity. So if the Americans check on what we did after we shook their tail, there is an explanation."
"Yes," Alina said. "One that leads them in the exact opposite direction of Florida. We often have diplomatic staff on temporary duty in Washington also serve in Canada, so nothing is surprising there. It's only about a ten-hour drive."
"And above all, we must maintain the security of the mission. Very well. I will figure out some way back home without the Embassy's assistance," Kharlov said stoically.
"Don't be ridiculous. Of course, you must have help. I will give you a card with contact information for a retired FSB agent who is now an independent contractor in Mexico. The name on the card is a pseudonym. His real name is Evgeny," Alina said.
Neda had been sitting silently in the back seat but now stirred. "Surely not the Evgeny?" she asked.
Alina glanced at the rearview mirror curiously. "Well, yes," she said. "But you haven't been in the FSB long enough to know him. How did you hear of Evgeny?"
Now Neda looked uncomfortable. "I feel foolish for speaking. Vasilyev told me stories about Evgeny that he said were passed down by his father. He said I should never repeat them, not even to others in the FSB."
Alina nodded. "Your husband was right about that. Evgeny never wanted fame, and I always thought one of the reasons he retired was because he had become too visible."
Kharlov pursed his lips thoughtfully. "If the man is such a legend, it's surprising he was allowed to retire. Perhaps his contractor status is just a cover?"