The Einstein Papers

CHAPTER 11

"Tell them this is not a good time for me," the prime minister of China said wearily.

"You might mention the American president visited not two years ago." The foreign minister nodded his assent. "I think his handlers want a show visit. That makes it appear that he is listening and responding to our Asian neighbors' fearful demands."

"The United States should remain on its side of the world," the prime minister said.

"China will worry about Asia."

"I shall make the appropriate excuses," the foreign minister noted as he rose to leave. Once the foreign minister had closed the door behind himself, General Wai-Leis glanced at the prime minister and smiled. "I think one can safely surmise that by the date the American president wishes to visit, all diplomatic ties will have already been severed."

Wai-Leis was in his late seventies. Though only five-foot-six inches tall, he carried himself like a much taller man. His erect posture came from a lifetime in the Chinese military. His hair was snow white and his hands liver-spotted, but other than that he appeared to be just reaching age sixty. The orbit of one of his eyes sat slightly lower in his face than the other, making one eyelid appear longer, and his teeth were showing the wear of seven decades of use. Still, Wai-Leis was an undeniably handsome man. He was a millionaire many times over, the result of his secret interest in a Chinese weapons firm. And he remained quite active, still managing to visit his mistress once a week. His friendship with the prime minister spanned five decades.

"Like the days when we began," the prime minister noted.

"A much better time," Wai-Leis agreed.

War was on the minds of the leaders of China. In the last few years their quest toward world-power status had progressed quickly. China had amassed an enviable nuclear arsenal, along with the missiles to launch a strike far outside their own borders. The country had moved to assemble a blue-water navy at a blistering pace. In addition, the influence they enjoyed across Asia was at an all-time high.

These days, when China spoke, Washington listened carefully.

"What do you suppose will happen to Hong Kong once we institute our plan?" the prime minister said casually to Wai-Leis.

"The Americans will call for a trade embargo, but little else will happen," Wai-Leis noted.

"We can withstand that," the prime minister said. "It has proven not to work with both Cuba and Iraq."

When the Chinese had assumed control of Hong Kong in 1997, their economy soared. The first few years saw higher stock market and real estate prices, but the climb had reversed in the fall of 1998 and the Chinese economy was now slowed down by recession.

But even with the worldwide economic slump, the gross national product of China had recently surpassed Japan's and was now second only to that of the United States. This seemingly backward country, a place where its citizens still utilized rickshaws and wagon carts, had, in a few short years, become the second-largest holder of United States Treasury bonds.

With 5 percent of China s GNP devoted to defense spending, the same amount as in the United States, its military was being funded with billions. New high-tech weapons were being amassed at an alarming rate. What China couldn't buy from German or French manufacturers they tried to steal. Whatever was stolen they copied, then built in their own factories. China's arsenal of tanks was now the size of Iraq's in 1991. The Chinese air force now rivaled that of Great Britain.

"Why don't we just use our missiles on Taiwan?" the prime minister asked.

"When I was a young man my first battles for our army were fighting the followers of Chiang Kai-shek. We fought village to village, man to man. We chased him and his followers across the sea to Formosa. Now we should cross the sea and bring Formosa back."

The prime minister smiled. "You are one of the few who still refers to Taiwan as Formosa."

"It shall soon be Formosa again," Wai-Leis said as he puffed on a Chinese cigarette. As China rushed toward modernization it rapidly increased its imports of oil. Electric lights were showing up increasingly in the most remote villages, with most of the power coming from oil-burning generators. Diesel trains moved goods and people to and from markets. A massive growth in air transportation, as planes and airfields brought the country closer together, used more fuel. More and more frequently, the citizens of China looked forward to owning a motorized vehicle, even if it was only a small motor scooter. And that required oil.

Although hydroelectric power was a priority for the Chinese leaders, it took oil to fuel the machines to build the dams. Even then, they were short of suitable rivers near population centers. For the foreseeable future they needed to find or import oil, and that required hard currency.

"Once we reunite with Taiwan we can concentrate on our oil problem," the prime minister said.

"It will be child's play if you can give me the super-weapon you have spoke of," WaiLeis said grandly. "With the Soviet Union fractured and everyone in fear of a war between India and Pakistan, we can sweep through Asia like the Japanese before World War II."

The reportedly vast oil reserves that had been located in the Tarim Basin in western China had been greatly touted, but as yet little oil had been pumped. As a result, the last few years had seen China assume a hostile posture in the Far East. First they declared the South China Sea under their domain. The second move for China was to dispute the ownership of the Spratly Islands. Rich oil reserves had been discovered just offshore of this disputed area, and Vietnam, which claimed the area, was bracing for a showdown. While the Spratley Islands were a prize the Chinese most definitely sought, it was considered by the leaders of China to be the second prize. First the Chinese leaders wanted to reunite Taiwan with the mainland.

"Do not become too cocky, my good friend," the prime minister noted.

"And why is that, esteemed prime minister?"

"Once we have the superweapon, who will need soldiers?" Less than ten minutes after General Wai-Leis's departure, the Chinese prime minister was shaking his head in disgust as he read the report of Choi's escape. The report had been prepared and delivered by Sun Tao, head of Chinas secret police. The prime minister finished reading the report then stared at Tao but said nothing. Tao glanced out the window onto Changan Avenue East before speaking.

"Because of his failure to capture Choi we have taken Hu Jimn's family into custody. What do you recommend we do with them?" Tao finally asked.

The prime minister avoided the question. He disliked the messy parts of his job, preferring that those below him make decisions pertaining to life and death.

"How close was Choi to solving the theory for us?" the prime minister asked slowly.

"I'm not a scientist, sir, but the reports I received indicate that a crucial section of the theory was beyond even Choi's reach. The information that was stolen from the U.S. Commerce Department was valuable, but from the start our scientists thought it was incomplete. Once again, with or without Choi, they are at a standstill."

"This was a long shot to begin with. I had my doubts from the first time our people inside the United States advanced the idea over a year ago."

"According to the intelligence we received we have every reason to believe the theory was completed," Tao noted.

"Have we exhausted all the research that is available on Einstein?"

"Recently we learned Einstein sent a telegram to Niels Bohr, a fellow physicist in Denmark, right around the time he went into the hospital for the last time," Tao said.

"Did we recover a copy of the telegram?" the prime minister asked.

"No copy was found by our spies in Denmark," Tao noted. "However, at that time the American FBI was watching Einstein's every move. The FBI is notorious for stealing telegrams. If it was close to the time Einstein died, who would notice if it was never delivered?"

"Hm … what else have we uncovered?" the prime minister asked.

"We have just learned of a series of personal diaries that were recently discovered and stored in the library at Princeton University," Tao said quietly.

"Good — order Jimn to fly there and steal them. Perhaps they hold the key to this puzzle. If Jimn is successful, we will release his family."

"I already have men inside the United States that could do a much better job, sir," Tao said quietly.

"Jimn is an old friend of mine, he must be allowed to redeem himself," the prime minister noted. "Still, just to be safe have another team standing by in case he fails."

"Very good, sir."

"One last thing, Tao," the prime minister said as Tao was walking toward the door.

"Bring me the file on Einstein and his theory again."

Nodding his acceptance, Tao walked from the office.

Less than forty-eight hours after being released from a cell in Beijing's Zhoutz Prison, Hu Jimn crept toward the library in Princeton, New Jersey. The university was on midsemester break and the campus was nearly deserted. Jimn had trouble finding a spot to park his rental car where it would not be too noticeable. Finally, a little less than a block away, he found a lot that was not completely empty. Shutting off the car he had locked the doors, then made his way slowly toward the thick foliage. He watched to see if he was being observed.

Once he was sure he had not been seen, he raised himself from the bushes. Snipping the wires on the window to the burglar alarm, Jimn raised the glass and climbed inside. The library was closed for the week of spring break and the air conditioning was off. Superheated air, warmed by the fall sun beating on the roof and tainted by the smell of old papers and musty books, surrounded Jimn like a dusty veil. A thin trickle of sweat started on the back of his neck and ran down his back. His forehead was soon dotted with perspiration.

During a brief planning session Jimn had attended immediately after his release, an agent from SPD had told him their intelligence source in New Jersey had indicated he should try to enter the library at the shift change of the security guards — six in the evening. The guards who normally patrolled the grounds would be in their offices handing over keys and finishing their reports.

The source had been right — Jimn had yet to see a guard.

Standing on the first floor of the library, Jimn scanned a sheet of paper that listed the library's contents. Hacked from the main Princeton computer by experts in China, and converted from English to Chinese to make it easier for Jimn to read, it listed Einstein's diaries as being in a special uncirculating collection. The diaries had only recently been declassified by the Atomic Energy Commission and donated to Princeton. They were still awaiting transcription and were being stored in the Special Collections Department, on the top floor.

Bounding up the stairs, Jimn reached the top and scanned the thick wooden door, which was secured with a hefty padlock. Removing a cloth pouch from his pocket, he unrolled a thin diamond-coated wire and sawed through the clasp of the lock. Once he was finished he twisted the lock and tossed it onto the ground.

As luck would have it, the metal boxes containing the Einstein documents were clearly marked, stacked together in the far corner of the room on a wooden table, and unlocked. Jimn immediately began searching through the safety-deposit-sized boxes like a man possessed. Tossing each box not containing the diaries into a pile in the corner of the floor, he attacked the next in line.

He quickly realized the search would take longer than he had planned. Two hours of searching passed, and the sun set, leaving the library in darkness. Jimn, who by now was reading with a penlight clenched in his teeth, finally located the first of the diaries. Following a quick review of the remaining inventory, he hoisted the two boxes that contained Einstein's diaries, one under each arm. It was half-past-eight in the evening.

Lugging the pair of boxes downstairs, he was walking toward the window to exit the library when he was startled by a voice from outside.

"Stop. Hold it right there," a security guard said from outside the open window. The guard was young, barely twenty years old, and he had taken the job to help with his tuition bills at a local community college. Several minutes before, while driving past in his cruiser on his way to buy his older partner a bag of donuts, the young guard had noticed the library window partially open.

In the beam of his spotlight he caught a glimpse of the severed alarm wires. He climbed from the cruiser and fingered the wires in his hand. He was just about to radio the main office to ask for backup when Jimn approached from inside. After issuing his warning the guard fumbled with the flashlight in his hand, securing it in his back pocket. Then he reached for his weapon in a holster on his belt.

He was several seconds too slow.

At the sound of the guard's voice Jimn dropped the boxes containing Einstein's diaries to the floor, then reached into the shoulder holster under his jacket. With a fluid motion he withdrew a .38 caliber Beretta. Before the guard could react, Jimn fired one round, hitting him in the head.

The guard hit the ground in a heap.

Tossing the boxes of diaries through the window, Jimn climbed through the opening. He had to step over the body of the guard, a pool of his blood now staining the dirt, in order to pick up the boxes.

Soon he was back in his rental car, miles from the university, racing north to Newark. Midnight Eastern Time in the United States was one in the afternoon in China. The prime minister sat in his office, sipping a cup of green tea.

Placing the cup back atop the saucer, he looked up as Tao entered the office. "What do you have to report?"

"Jimn reported in. He managed to steal the diaries— but he shot one of the Princeton guards in the effort," Tao said.

"Where are the diaries now?"

"Jimn scramble-faxed them several hours ago. Since that time a team of physicists has been reading them. One of the scientists found something that makes him believe the key to the theory is aboard Einstein's sailboat. A coded reference mentions leaving a package of great world importance. 'The package that holds the key to the force is in the Windforce,' he wrote," Tao noted. "The scientist is an Einstein buff — he claims that was the name of Einstein's sailboat."

"Interesting. Do we know where Einstein's sailboat is now?" the prime minister logically asked.

"Our computer expert inside the United States found records that indicate the vessel disappeared off the east coast of the United States in 1965. The vessel was due at a scrapyard in Providence, Rhode Island, but never arrived."

The prime minister lit a Panda cigarette and blew a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling.

"First call the embassy in New York and ask them to hire a marine salvage firm that cannot be traced back to us. We must find and recover Einstein's boat," the prime minister said. "After that, get rid of Jimn. Shooting that guard could bring us unwanted attention. He is no longer of any use to us."

"What of Jimn's family?" Tao asked. "They can go free," the prime minister said as he rose from the table. "That was the deal we made."

The day after he had stolen the diaries, and less than twenty-four hours after the Chinese prime minister had ordered his death, Jimn sat on the bed in his room at the Newark Motor Lodge. His life was in terrible disarray. After being released from prison he had been ordered aboard the plane that flew him to New York before he had a chance to see his family.

Jimn feared his family would never be released from jail.

His motel room was old and badly in need of remodeling. The Formica on the dresser was chipped, the paint on the walls stained and spotted. The carpeting on the floor was threadbare, the single vinyl chair near the wobbly table torn. A strange smell of stale liquor, cigarette smoke, and fear permeated the room.

Jimn stared bleakly at the television. The picture tube was ancient, the colors bleeding into one another. The noon news anchor, her hair a mysterious shade of orange, was reporting the shooting of the security guard at Princeton University. Averting his eyes to avoid watching the guard being removed from the scene, Jimn noticed a peculiar dark stain on the ceiling. Why was I ordered to stay in such a dump, he thought to himself?

He rubbed his eyes with his fingers.

Jimn was depressed — both by his surroundings and the news broadcast. The last thing he had wanted was to kill someone in the United States. Not that killing was abhorrent to him, he had participated in his share of torture and executions, but he knew that his superiors would see the shooting as another failure by him.

Jimn decided to grab a moment of fresh air. He walked down the hall to the soft-drink machine to buy a soda. He had been ordered by his handlers in Beijing to stay at the motel until he was contacted with further instructions, but that didn't require him to remain inside the room at all times, he thought.

After the soda I will order myself lunch to be delivered. Perhaps an American pizza. I think it's safe to celebrate the acquisition of the diaries at least, Jimn thought. Jimn walked down the hall to the soda machine. Finding he was short of the change he needed, he went to the office and asked the manager to break a dollar bill. Turning away from an episode of The People's Court, the man changed the bill without a word. As he exited the office, jingling the quarters in his hand, Jimn happened to glance toward his room. A man with his back toward Jimn was opening the door with a key. Jimn stared, not yet registering what he was witnessing.

The sound of an automobile horn in the parking lot broke Jimn's concentration. Now inside the room, the man ran out at the sound of his partners signal. Jimn, still standing near the office, watched as a second man got out of the car and began to run toward him. Both men held pistols in their hands.

They're here to kill me, Jimn realized instantly. Dropping the change, he turned and sprinted across the parking lot and into the street. Several cars swerved to avoid striking him as he dashed blindly across the roadway. Jimn knew that the killers had been sent by the Chinese government. He knew because he now recognized the man who had entered his room. Jimn had trained him himself.

Across the street from the motel, Jimn ducked as a bullet shattered a neon soft-drink sign on the side of a coffee shop fronting the road. As Jimn ran past the front door of the restaurant, which was filled with lunchtime diners, a second bullet struck and shattered the glass in a newspaper machine directly in front of him.

He raised his arm to cover his face. A spear of glass from the display window cut into his leg. A third bullet entered Jimn's back, nicking his lung. As the sound of the approaching sirens increased, Jimn continued to run. Exiting the restaurant's parking lot, he found himself at the edge of an open field along Newark Bay. He mounted the concrete breakwater that formed a wall along the water's edge and began running south. The sirens were almost upon them as one of the Chinese assassins stopped and carefully aimed. Squeezing the trigger, he watched as his round hit Jimn, flinging him into the dirty water of the bay.

The police now very near, the assassins disappeared into the shadows. For so blatant a shooting there were few witnesses. Jimn floated facedown in the filthy water, a trail of blood leaking from his body marking the spot, as the first police car pulled into the field next to the coffee shop.