“More than those?” the madam asked.
“Better ones, if possible.”
“Well, I have a fairly decent armory in the office,” she said, thoughtfully biting a lip. “But I know where you can get more. Military stuff, right?”
“Right.”
“Yeah, thought so. Well, the Tong hasn’t given me any problems for years, but I like to stay prepared.”
“Very wise.”
“I’ll send a girl to bring a map.”
“Thanks.”
“Anything else?”
“A boat, small, fast, disposable.”
Turning to the left, Tsai saw the electric glow of China in the far distance and opened her mouth to speak, then changed her mind.
“When do you want it?” she asked softly.
“As soon as possible.”
“Then I had better get moving.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Yangtze River Valley, Red China
“No! Please!” Colonel Weng Pei pleaded. “I had to act. Choi Lei at the CIA station said that a specialist was coming from America to deal with something big. He had to be eliminated.”
“Shut up,” Major Shen-wa Fen muttered, slashing his knife along the man’s throat.
As a torrent of hot blood gushed forth, the major pushed his gurgling commander out of the hovering Z-8 transport helicopter.
“You contemptible fool,” Shen-wa said in annoyance, cleaning the blade on a rag as he watched the hurtling body vanish into the thick forest below. “Who told him to move on the intel provided by our insider and lay a trap for the CIA agent? I want the Americans stonewalled, learning nothing as they rush about Hong Kong from one false lead to another until they meet the Lucky Lady!”
“Mice in a maze,” Sergeant Ming Bohai rumbled from the cockpit, angling the military helicopter away from the rolling forest and back toward home base.
Sheathing the blade, Shen-wa nodded. “Exactly! But now…”
Annoyed, he looked out the window, lost in his private thoughts. Was the plan compromised? He didn’t think so, which was lucky, because at this point it would be nearly impossible to stop. After five long years of planning, everything was dovetailing into place, and he wouldn’t allow anything to get in his way. Certainly not some hot-snot nephew of a politician, a fat fool who had never fired a weapon in combat, and earned his rank by throwing elaborate parties and kissing ass.
No wonder the world hates China, Shen-wa noted, leaning back in the jump seat. We’re a joke. As corrupt as the Americans and as decadent as the Russians.
Pulling a small ironwood pipe from the breast pocket of his uniform, Shen-wa tucked it contentedly into his mouth. Sadly, he couldn’t light the pipe, as smoking was strictly forbidden on board the helicopter. Something about the smoke bothering the advanced electronics. Still, having the stem between his teeth gave him no small measure of comfort, and it was an aid to clear thinking. How had a CIA agent been dispatched to Hong Kong so fast? What did the spy agency know?
Unlike most of the executive operatives in Red Star, the major was a tall, handsome man with perfectly combed hair, and the smile of a Beijing movie star. He always spoke softly, rarely above a whisper, yet combat veterans jumped as if he were cracking a whip. Nobody in the Central Military Command really understood how the major achieved the effect, not even the president, and every attempt to duplicate it had failed miserably. The aura of command radiating from Shen-wa was a natural talent, and had caused quite a lot of resentment in the regular army. His transfer from counterintelligence into the covert division of the Red Star had been as expected as rain in the spring—normal, natural and to everyone’s benefit.
“Sir, can the damage be repaired?” Ming asked, swinging away from the new high-tension powerline towers jutting up from the forest like the skeleton hands of dead robots.
“Most certainly, old friend,” Shen-wa replied, smiling around the pipe. “We’re fine. For the moment, at least. Your prompt action in telling me about this saved us all. It has helped save China itself.”
“Just doing my job, sir,” Ming demurred, leveling the helicopter so as not to draw unwanted attention from the workers below.
Childhood hadn’t been kind to the sergeant in many ways. It gave him a face from hell, and had started him on the twisted path to his present employment. Unusual for a race known for its rather compact stature, Ming was a hulking giant, well over seven feet tall and with shoulders as broad as a Tibetan ox. His fingers were so large he had to remove the trigger guard from his service pistol to operate the weapon, yet he flew helicopters with smooth precision.
“We’re all just doing our jobs,” Shen-wa said, lost in thought. The CIA…the CIA…why did that keep echoing in his mind?
Lost in contemplation, he made no further comments as the sergeant expertly piloted the helicopter over the small town of Sandooping, and then proceed up the river toward the gigantic Three Gorges Dam.
Finished only a few years earlier, the Three Gorges facility was the largest dam in the world, with twenty-seven hydroelectric generators fully capable of supplying power to half of China. Once, he had read the exact figures of how much voltage it generated, but then promptly forgot the number. He wasn’t overly interested in statistics, only results. The dam had cost thirteen billion euros to build, and so it had been relatively easy for him to siphon off a decent chunk of the funds for Project Keyhome.
The Three Gorges Dam was so huge that it had a series of locks alongside, elevators for cargo ships, and could lift entire oceangoing vessels from the lower runoff located at the bottom, to the vast lake on top. No other dam in the world could do that, and the fact was a constant source of pride for the major. The Chinese had always been creators, inventing black powder, rockets, the compass, and a host of other items that made modern life possible.
And soon they would bring freedom to every civilized nation on the planet, Shen-wa added mentally. Whether they wanted it or not. But first China had to clean its own house.
Receiving clearance from the air traffic controller inside the control tower atop the massive dam, the sergeant landed the helicopter directly on one of three circles set aside for emergency transport.
Even before the sergeant had shut down the complex machine, Major Shen-wa had exited the helicopter and walked far enough away that he could light his pipe.
“Orders, sir?” Ming asked, bending low as he walked under the slowing blades.
“You better go and report the terrible accident to your political officer, Sergeant,” Shen-wa directed. “Now remind me again, the colonel was drunk, as usual, and fell off the helicopter….” He paused expectantly.
“A hundred miles to the north, near the abandoned missile base?”
“No, better make it the south, near the rock quarry. That will be much harder to search.”
“Yes, sir. A hundred miles to the south, near the old rock quarry,” Ming replied, managing to look contrite. “We tried to land to see if there was anything we could do, but the terrain in the area made it impossible.”
“And we didn’t radio in immediately for help because…”
“We couldn’t! The colonel had ordered a halo of full radio silence around the dam.”
Removing the pipe, Shen-wa smiled. “Exactly. Such a shame.”
“Sir, what if they don’t believe me?”
“Then kill them all and throw the bodies into the gorge. In fact—” he gave a hard smile “—do