Chapter Forty-Three

Wu was stiff and sore from jolting over the rough road. The convoy had been on the road since morning, headed for the village of Moincer. From there it was still hours to the objective. Sergeant Choy rode with him in the command car.

Thirty soldiers commandeered from the 53rd Mountain Battalion in Lhasa rode in the three trucks behind. They weren't elite troops but they were used to the terrain and the altitude. Wu wasn't sure what he would find at the ruins. He'd need manpower to remove anything of interest there. The trucks would transport it back.

The General's instructions had been concise. Yang had spread a composite satellite photo on the table and placed his finger on a spot in the west of Xizang, formerly Tibet.

"Senior Colonel Wu."

"Sir."

"This is the monastery of Gurugem. Fifty kilometers north is a cluster of ruins. The directions in the book you procured lead there."

Yang placed his finger on the photo. A blurred image of regular shapes and fallen walls indicated an ancient compound.

"The nearest town is here, where the coal mines are located. There is a road to the monastery. From there you will make your way up this valley to the ruins. There is no road. Be sure you have adequate transport."

"Sir."

"Take men with you. Bring back anything you find of value."

"Sir, what am I looking for?"

"Sonar scans show a chamber under the ruins. You will find a way into this chamber. Look for artifacts of any kind. There may be maps. Look for anything that refers to the First Emperor. If there are records, collect or photograph them and bring the information back to me. Take radiation detection equipment. There may be a stockpile of radioactive materials, especially ore. If you find it, bring back a sample. If it is there, look for anything that shows where it was mined."

"What if the Americans have discovered this site?"

Yang looked unconcerned. "If any foreigners are there, interrogate and eliminate them. Find out everything they know. Dispose of the bodies and any equipment they might have. That should be easy in this remote area."

"Yes, sir. I understand. May I ask a question?"

Yang looked at Wu from under hooded eyes and nodded. For an instant it reminded Wu of a cobra, but he put the thought from his mind.

"Sir, may I ask the status of Summer Wind?"

"You may. Summer Wind is on schedule. We begin in two days, as planned. The Americans will be angered by events carried out by the Triads. Their anger will confuse them. The Chairman and the Standing Committee will be in Beijing. While they argue about how to respond to the Americans I will neutralize them. Then I will placate the Americans, blame the Committee and provide the scapegoats the American president will need for his people. Dead scapegoats in Beijing. The Triads in America."

"Sir, your vision leads us back onto the true path of our destiny. I wish I could be in Beijing when it happens."

Yang dismissed the flattery with a quick gesture, but looked pleased. "Your mission is crucial for our future. Do not fail me."

"Never, sir. I will start at once."

"Very good. Keep me informed."

Wu had saluted, turned on his heel and marched from the room.

Now, grinding through the darkness of western Xizang, Wu felt a glow of pride remembering Yang's praise. His reverie was shattered by the gunshot sound of a tire blowing out. The driver wrestled the vehicle to a stop. The convoy halted behind.

"Quickly, Sergeant."

"Sir."

Choy was out cursing, yelling orders. Wu stood smoking by the side of the road while the soldiers worked, fuming at the delay. It took twenty minutes before the wheel was changed and they were moving again. Two hours later, the yellow lights of the village of Moincer appeared.

They drove past neat rows of low houses built of whitewashed earth and stone, roofed with red tile. A few strings of prayer flags blew in the never-ending wind. Large, painted Buddha eyes stared out from some of the older buildings. They passed the ugly cement block that was Party district headquarters.

Tea carts and shops were open and crowded, even at this early hour. Wu would have liked tea, but there was no time to stop. Besides, he thought the tea in this region inferior. They drove past a man herding goats toward the market. People looked away as the Chinese convoy drove past.

The road out of town was smooth and they made good time. The lights from the vehicles revealed a stark landscape of treeless hills and patches of snow lingering in dark places untouched by sun. They passed a herd of yaks, black shapes humped like basalt rocks in the night. The night was fading and the valley was filled with deep, cold shadows.

They passed the monastery, a multi-tiered, whitewashed structure built into the side of a hill. Wu consulted the map. "Turn here. Stop."

Wu got out. A broad valley led north into the mountains. Choy stood behind him.

"Look here, Sergeant. What do you see?" He pointed at faint impressions in the fragile earth.

"Tire tracks. A wide wheel base, maybe a truck. Someone went this way, not too long ago."

"The tracks are not deep enough for a truck. I think the Americans are here before us."

"How would they get here with a vehicle, without us detecting them?"

"Who knows? When we find them, we'll ask them. Put the troops on alert, lock and load weapons. If the Americans are here, they will be armed."

"Yes, sir."

Wu's satellite phone buzzed in his pocket.

"Wu."

"This is Juggler."

Damn. What was this going to be? Wu had enough to think about. He forced his mind to English.

"Go ahead, Juggler."

"The government here has learned something is planned for July Fourth. They know the Triads are involved and are raising the alert status."

"What else?" Wu waited for the satellite delay.

"There is speculation regarding a military takeover in your country. Are you planning a coup?"

Wu drew in a breath. How did they learn of this?

"No, nothing like that is being considered. Your government is paranoid."

"What is going to happen on the Fourth? Are you planning an attack? Because I don't want to be anywhere near here if you are."

"What possible advantage would that give us? Of course not." The lie came easily. "The Triads are being mobilized against the Dalai Llama and the Tibetan Revisionists, that's all. Large demonstrations will take place. They will be forceful but peaceful. We will achieve maximum exposure by protesting on your independence day. You should not be worried."

By the time Juggler realized Wu was lying it would be too late to make any difference, but Wu needed to pacify him. Juggler was nervous. Wu decided his usefulness was over. There would be no more payments, but Juggler didn't need to know that.

"Excellent, Juggler. There will be a bonus this time. Continue to keep me informed of any developments, but there should be no more confusion after the demonstrations take place."

"I have to go. Someone's coming."

Juggler ended the call.

Wu stood in the early morning mountain cold and thought about what to say to General Yang. He walked away from the vehicle. Choy made to follow and Wu waved him back. He called Yang.

"Yes."

"Sir, I have just received a call from an asset in America."

"Yes?"

"The Americans have learned we plan something using the Triads. They suspect the existence of Summer Wind."

Silence. Wu waited.

"What is the reliability of this asset?"

"Very high, sir. He is embedded in their Federal Bureau of Investigation."

"This changes nothing. We will continue as planned. What is your current status?"

"We are starting up to the objective. I estimate three or four hours until we arrive. We found tracks and I believe the Americans are here ahead of us."

"Meddlers. Find and eliminate them. You have your orders."

"Yes, sir."

"Report when you have more information." Yang ended the call.

Wu turned and walked back to where Choy waited.

"Let's go, Sergeant."

The convoy began the climb to the ruins. Wu checked his pistol, put it back in his holster. With luck he would take the Americans by surprise. There couldn't be many of them, there were only tracks for one vehicle. He rubbed his forehead, trying to ease the pounding headache that had started. Damn this thin air. He coughed and spit out a wad of phlegm. Maybe it was time to cut back on his smoking.

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