War of Eagles

FIFTY-TWO

Before leaving his post, one of the soldiers in the booster security detail sent an E-mail message to Zhuhai. It read:

It was not the kind of message the general wanted to receive. There was slightly more than an hour until launch. If the device he had planted were discovered and the rocket took off safely, the rationale for what he was planning to do next would evaporate. Without the explosion, Tam Li could never convince the surviving president that Taiwan had used the disaster — perhaps even caused it — to press a military advantage, and only the quick action of the general had thwarted a major strike against targets along China’s eastern coastline.

It was dramatic action that would merit the general’s appointment as the new minister of defense, or perhaps even as the prime minister. Since it was no longer necessary to attach suspicion to the late Chou Shin, Tam Li could concentrate on the purely military aspects of the action.

As long as the rocket blows up. Without that, he had nothing.

Tam Li sat alone in his office, staring out the window and thinking. He was not a man prone to displays of anger or frustration. He preferred to use his energies more effectively. Every problem had at least one solution, often more. It was simply a matter of finding the right one. The general had spoken with the white team officers when they came in from extinguishing the fire. They were loyal soldiers who understood why he had destroyed the aircraft. They were also well-paid members of Tam Li’s black market gang. Explaining to Beijing what had happened on the airfield would not be a problem. Chou Shin’s explosives-laden jet had blown up. The pulling of his rocket team was a greater concern, especially if the prime minister suspected an attack. A new security crew might find what had been done to the rocket.

The irony was that when they were called in, the Xichang team had been getting set to pull back and leave the space complex. They did not want to be within fifty miles of the facility when the plutonium core exploded. Tam Li could not count on them remaining silent as the countdown progressed. If they were still in the complex, chances were good they would die.

And then it occurred to him, a way to fix this situation. Tam Li would use the hide-in-plain-sight scenario.

He pressed the intercom on his telephone.

“Yes, General?”

“Get me the Xichang space center,” he said. “I want to speak with the prime minister at once.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tam Li would tell the prime minister why he had assigned those men to the boosters, and why he must let them finish their job.

It was important, he would say, to protect them from the attack Chou Shin had been planning.