The Einstein Papers

CHAPTER 4

Although the remoteness of the Qinghai Advanced Weapons Facility afforded it a natural defense against infiltration, the Chinese had taken no chances. The grounds were peppered with buried motion detectors, and detailed radar scanned the grounds for anything out of place. Trained guard dogs patrolled the perimeter on regular intervals and the fence was electrified to an intensity that caused it to hum as if a series of hornets'

nests lay just to the other side.

Taft glanced down at his watch.

"This is going to get hairy," he whispered to Choi.

"What do…" Choi began to say.

Twenty miles to the southwest, along an ancient but still active fault line, the last of a series of carefully measured explosive charges Taft had set in place ignited. An earthen dike along the Qargan River blew, flooding the ugly scar in the land with millions of gallons of water. The plates in the earth bordering the fault line, loosened by the explosions and now lubricated by the water, shifted.

With help from man the forces deep in the earth were unleashed. At that instant the ground began to shake lightly. The tremors increased their intensity until undulating waves shook the building Taft and Choi stood alongside. And then, like a series of giant Christmas lights run amok, the electrical transformers at the corners of the facility exploded with blinding blue flashes and the grounds were plunged into darkness and chaos.

Taft was slipping on a pair of goggles as the ground first shook. He stared out on the darkness through a comforting green glow.

"I guess what they say is true," he said as he reached out to a trembling Choi. "It's not nice to fool with Mother Nature."

Tugging at Choi's shoulder, he motioned for him to follow. One hundred yards north of the building that housed Choi's cell the pair paused and crouched in a ditch.

"I'm sure they have an emergency generator, so watch for a spotlight any second," Taft said.

As if Taft had willed it, a beam of light bobbled on the ground, then began to sweep the grounds.

"When the light sweeps east in a few seconds, you're going to follow me to the fence," Taft said.

Choi watched the searchlight begin its swing to the east. The spotlight passed over the top of the ditch and continued on its path. Taft grabbed Choi's arm, yanking him easily to his feet.

"Now," Taft whispered, pulling the scientist along by his arm. At the edge of the fence Taft spit on the wires. Finding it dead, he motioned to Choi.

"Go under, I'm right behind you."

Choi squirmed into the depression Taft had dug through the sand under the fence on the way into the compound. He watched from the other side as Taft picked up an electric jammer hung on the fence. Designed to temporarily defeat the motion sensors on his way into the facility, the box had served its crude purpose.

Quickly collecting several tumbleweeds from the ground, he slipped into the hole, covering the entrance behind. Taft climbed out the other side just as the light began to sweep back to where they crouched.

"Quick, follow me," Taft whispered.

He grabbed Choi by his jacket and pushed him into a washed-out gully several feet away. Taft hit the ground seconds before the light swept across them. He sat upright just as soon as the light passed overhead.

"So far so good. The quake was designed to give us some time to undertake our escape," Taft noted as an aftershock rippled through the earth. "With their electronics systems barely functioning, it should be some time before they think to check on you." Choi watched in stunned silence as Taft quickly withdrew a global positioning system, or GPS, from his pack. He scanned the numbers, checking their exact location. Staring briefly at a plastic-covered map, Taft next glanced at the small compass on his wristwatch, then stuffed the GPS and map back in the pack.

"This way," he said quietly to Choi.

Choi struggled to keep pace with Taft, who made his way quickly down the gully. After a twenty-minute jog, Taft stopped and checked their location once again. Glancing at the moon, he took a northern fork of the gully. Two hundred yards later, the pair sighted the Shule River. The river was flooded with recent rains and the muddy water surged quickly past. Taft stopped and took his bearings again. After staring around for a second, he walked a few feet to the left then reached beneath a pile of brush at the water's edge and removed a metal folding shovel.

"Eureka," Taft said quietly.

Choi watched in amazement as Taft unfolded the shovel and began quickly digging in the sand of the river-bank. After removing two feet of sand overburden, Taft uncovered a four-foot-by-six-foot wooden crate. He dragged the box out of the hole and pried open the top with the shovel. Moving quickly now, he removed a package from the box and tossed it on the ground. Next he pulled a nylon cord lanyard. With a loud hiss a black rubber raft began to inflate. When the raft was partially inflated he pulled a strip running down the center. This released a catalyst into die bottom compartment, and he waited as the chemicals mixed and the floor became rigid.

"So far so good," Taft said, as he dug farther into the crate and removed a compact four-stroke outboard motor and an auxiliary fuel tank.

Taft looked at Choi, then into the box. "You want a cold beer?" Seeing the look of shock on Choi's face, Taft smiled. "Just having fun with you, pal," he said quietly.

Moving rapidly, Taft dragged the raft into the water. Wading in, he attached the motor to the stern, then placed the extra fuel tank in the rear. Taft climbed back onto the shore and threw the wooden crate in the hole and shoveled sand over the top. After smoothing the sand with the shovel, he brushed over the area with a tree limb to blend it in with the surrounding shoreline. Hoisting the shovel to his shoulder like an ax, he turned to the thoroughly stunned Choi. "How do you feel about boat rides?"

"They're okay," Choi stammered, still somewhat in shock.

"Good. Climb in," Taft said, wading in the river. Then he tossed the shovel inside and pulled the stem farther into the current.

"You ride in front," he said to Choi.

Choi settled into the bow as Taft, dripping water, climbed over the side at the stern. He settled into the seat and pulled the rope start for the motor. Firing on the first pull, it quietly settled into a low rumble.

Taft flicked the reverse gear on the motor body and backed the raft into the current. As the force of the current flipped the bow around and downstream, he flipped the gear box into forward and began to steer the raft downstream. In a matter of three minutes' time the raft was approaching speeds of thirty miles an hour.

Wrapping his arm around the tiller, Taft pushed a series of buttons on his watch again. When he finished, he throttled the outboard to full speed. The wind from the raft shooting downstream was whipping Choi's hair as he turned in his bow seat and glanced back at Taft. The American was staring straight downriver. A dull glow was emanating from his icy blue eyes as he steered the raft carefully through the narrow rock canyons. Although Choi could not hear over the muffled roar of the engine and the sound of the water slapping against the hull, Taft's lips were pursed.

It appeared he was whistling.