War of Eagles

FIFTY-ONE

The procession to the space complex consisted of seven cars. The only limousine was the one used by the prime minister and his daughter. Everyone else was put in a clean but inelegant military vehicle.

That was what had given Hood his idea for intercepting a potential bomber.

The space center was shaped like a Y. The caravan drove in through the stem of the Y, then turned west. They drove past the low-lying Communication Center, past the Tracking Station, to the Technical Center. That was where the vehicles stopped and let them out. The launch pad was situated four kilometers to the north. The rocket was clearly visible as the guests stepped out. It stood gleaming white against the silver and black girders of the gantry. Smoke plumed from the three stages, dissipating quickly against the pure blue sky. Heat rising from the field between them caused the rocket to ripple slightly, like a mirage.

Xichang did not have a public relations organization. Security personnel in severe, dark blue uniforms took charge of the visitors. There was one guard to each carload. Interpreters who had traveled with them from Beijing translated the guards’ instructions. Anita had joined them from her father’s car. The prime minister himself did not emerge as the groups moved toward the Technical Center.

“There is a basement beneath the facility,” Anita said for the benefit of the English-speaking group. “We will be observing the launch from there.”

“I need to see your father,” Hood said, sidling over to her.

“He will be out in a moment,” she said. The prime minister’s daughter was wearing an official face and talking in a very official voice. Hood liked the woman better when she was slightly uncertain, pressing him for information.

“I’ll wait for him,” Hood said.

“I think he would rather you go with—”

“Listen to me,” Hood said. He leaned closer. “You’re concerned about appearances. I’m worried about his life.”

That got her attention.

“His life?”

“I will wait for him here,” Hood said, leaning away.

“Then I will have to wait with you, to translate,” she said. “What do I do about the other English-speaking guests?”

“They know what they are here to see,” Hood replied. “They will manage without you for a while.”

Anita looked concerned as she went off to tell the others she would join them downstairs. She returned just as her father stepped from his car.

“Do you have new information?” she asked Hood.

“Some.”

The prime minister walked to where Hood was waiting. He looked from Anita to Hood.

“We have confirmed the destruction of the aircraft,” Le said through his daughter.

“So have we,” Hood told him.

“But you have more,” Le said.

“A question. Is there any reason the general might have for wanting — or rather needing—to stay in Zhuhai?” Hood asked.

“I asked the defense minister a similar question,” Le admitted. “He said there is nothing unusual going on in that region.”

“Do you trust the minister?”

“I have no reason to distrust him.”

“Excuse me. Is that an endorsement or diplomacy?”

“It is my answer,” Le replied.

“Let’s try this, then,” Hood said with a trace of impatience. “Who will appoint Chou Shin’s replacement?”

“The president,” Le answered. “I was just conferring with him on that very subject. There is nothing in the appointment that benefits Tam Li. His replacement will be a Communist, not an ally to Tam Li.” Le glanced toward the rocket. “I am beginning to wonder if this is about nothing more than the rivalry between the two men. With Chou Shin gone, perhaps this facility is no longer in danger. Perhaps it never was.” He looked back at Hood. “You do not share that sense?”

“No, sir,” Hood said. “Allow me one more question. Are there any men from Tam Li’s command on the base?”

“Why?” the prime minister asked. “Do you now suspect that he may be planning an attack?”

“General Rodgers and I were wondering if an attack here might serve as a diversion that benefits Tam Li somehow,” Hood said. He used Rodgers’s title to remind the prime minister that there was a military voice in his reasoning.

“What could Tam Li gain by that?” Le asked.

“We don’t know. But he is sitting on top of a fat arsenal. And an attack on the rocket might be the trigger he needs to launch it.”

“Again, for what reason?” Le asked.

“Ambition?” Hood asked. “I don’t know the man. But we think the explosion at the airfield occurred beneath Chou’s jet, not on it. That could be a singular incident. Or it could be the start of something larger.” He looked at Anita. “A purge of government leaders, perhaps. More than a few are here now.”

The translator’s slightly angry expression suddenly grew more concerned. She finished translating and looked at her father. His own features were still neutral. He was, above all, a good politician.

“The guards are drawn from different branches of the military and rotated every six months,” Le said. “I will find out who may have come from the Zhuhai command.”

“Thank you,” Hood said.

Le excused himself and went back to his car. Anita and Hood remained behind.

“Your concern is for the rocket,” she said.

“And our lives,” Hood told her.

“Why don’t you leave the complex? We can search for the general’s personnel, if there are any.”

“I don’t like the idea of running,” Hood said.

“So you are staying to be manly?” she asked. “Like James Bond?”

He could not tell if she were kidding or not. “I am doing my job,” he replied.

She smiled. “That is a very responsible answer. It is also very Chinese.”

So, apparently, is megalomania and murder, Hood wanted to tell her. He refrained. The woman had her own definition of the Chinese character. It was about industry and honor, very much a reflection of how she saw her father. He would let her have that. He suspected that only events would rewrite her definitions.

Le returned. His expression bore a touch of gravity it had not possessed before.

“A unit was recently rotated in from Zhuhai,” Le said. “I have asked that those individuals be brought to the Command and Control Center. I am going to meet them there now.”

“Where were they stationed?” Hood asked.

“Originally, they were checking passes at the front gate.”

“Originally?” Hood asked.

“Three weeks ago they were relocated at the request of the general himself,” Le said. “He said this rocket was important to his base. He wanted to make sure the boosters were being watched by people he had trained and whom he trusted.”

“I would like to go with you,” Hood said.

“No. I will let you know what I find out. You can wait in the Technical Center if you wish. I will contact you there.”

“Sir, we have less than ninety minutes to launch—”

“All the more reason for me to get to the command center,” the prime minister said as he turned and left.

Hood started after him. “Anita, please ask him to wait.”

“My father has told you what he plans to do,” Anita said.

“Yes, but I have experience in this area—”

“Not here,” she replied. “You don’t even speak the language.”

“I can read expressions, body language.” Hood stopped. He looked back at the woman as Le got in the car. “Dammit, everything—anything—might help.”

“If my father wants help, he will ask for it.”

“When?” Hood asked. “After the rocket is destroyed?”

“My father knows what he is doing,” Anita said. “He is an able man.”

“But not infallible,” Hood snapped. “He let the entire situation with the general and Chou Shin get away from him—”

“Mr. Hood, we are quite finished.”

“No! You’ve stopped listening, which is not the same thing. The stakes are high here, Anita! This is not a time for ego.”

“For once I agree with you, Mr. Hood. He told you where to wait, and I suggest you go there. Now, please excuse me. I, too, have a job to do.” The woman strode toward the Technical Center.

Hood raised his hands in exasperation. But anger was not going to help, and he lowered them. He remained beside the wide asphalt road that ran through the complex. The cars were still parked by the side of the building. A guard at the door of the center watched Hood but did not move from his post.

The rising sun was hot, and Hood was perspiring. Only the slightest breeze moved across the field. Hood pulled his cell phone from the loop on his belt. He wanted to call Rodgers and tell him what he had learned about a squad from Zhuhai. At least he knew where the general’s team had been. It would allow the marines to narrow their patrol zone.

Unfortunately, the communications at the complex interfered with the signal. He would have to find some other way to get this information to Rodgers.

Quickly.