Springboard

44

The pilot said, “Boy, it sure hit the fan back there. The Chinese Air Traffic Control guys are going nuts on the air. They want everybody on the ground to stay there, and nobody is going to be landing any time soon.”

Kent, who stood next to him in the cockpit, said, “Can we get away?”

“If I can get us another couple of klicks away from shore before we take off, yeah,” the pilot said. “Their Navy hasn’t checked in yet, and I don’t think they have anything close enough to run us down.”

The Japanese seaplane’s engines were rumbling loudly, and the craft was bouncing along, jarring Kent’s teeth with every hit.

“Kinda choppy,” Kent observed.

“We can take off in three-foot waves, no problem,” the pilot said. “Better go sit down, though, it might get a little rough.”

Kent nodded and worked his way back to his seat.

Next to him, General Wu sat, staring out through the window.

He turned to look as Kent sat.

“You are in the American Army?”

“Marines, sir, working for Net Force’s military unit.”

Wu nodded. “Net Force. Shing. The idiot and his computers. They gave us away. Such things are not to be trusted.”

“Between you and me, yes, sir.”

Wu nodded again. “I was so close.”

Kent didn’t reply.

Wu frowned. “What now?”

“We have people who want to talk to you.”

“I won’t tell them anything.”

Kent shrugged. “If I were in your place, I’d consider it, sir. Your government will eventually sort out what happened in Macao. They’ll want to talk to you worse than we do. Probably more, uh, harshly.”

“And if I cooperate with the U.S. authorities, I’ll be allowed to stay in your country? Is that what you are saying? People died during this operation, and I am responsible — you would excuse that?”

“No, sir, I can’t make that promise. A Chinese general would have a lot to give us, and I’d expect that somebody from the State Department will eventually get around to making an offer to you, but that’s politics, and not my area of expertise.”

Wu smiled. “I have seen your area of expertise, ah… I did not get your name and rank…?”

“Abraham Kent, sir, Colonel.”

“A well-played operation, Colonel.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“One must admire skill wherever one sees it, even in an opponent. How long did you take to set up your operation?”

Kent was embarrassed to tell him, but there was no point in lying. “We got to Macao today, sir. We didn’t know you were going to hit the casinos until we got there, so we had to develop our options on the fly, as it were.”

Wu’s face showed his surprise. “No! Our plan was many months in the making, and you just swept in and destroyed it with no preparation?”

“Better to be lucky than good, sir.”

Wu smiled, but it was bitter. “Your gods must be stronger than mine. I had dreams, Colonel. A new and better China. I would have gotten rid of the Communists. I might have done it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well. Sometimes the dragon flies, sometimes the dragon dies.”

Kent thought he was speaking metaphorically. He didn’t have a chance to move before Wu pulled his uniform shirt up and bit off the top button—

“General, don’t—!”

Wu smiled. Kent heard the crunch as Wu’s teeth crushed the poison tablet disguised as a shirt button.

“Medic!” Kent yelled. He grabbed at Wu, tried to open his mouth, but he knew it was already too late.

Comrade General Wu had been right. He wasn’t going to be telling anybody anything. Wu was on a one-way voyage to… elsewhere.

Damn.