Death Minus Zero

CHAPTER TWO

China

Colonel Xia Chan had the ghost of a smile of satisfaction on his face as he replaced the telephone receiver on its cradle. Such shows of pleasure were unexpected. He was a solemn man, entirely dedicated to his position and responsibilities, so the officials gathered in his presence were surprised at the emotion. Chan sat back in his seat, facing the group of men around the conference table. His hands were placed on the smooth surface, fingers tapping gently. He studied the group until he was satisfied he had their full attention.

“It has begun,” he announced. “The successful apprehension of the American Saul Kaplan has taken place. Even as I speak, he is being moved on the first stage of the journey that will remove him from the country.”

A thin-faced, balding major asked, “Are congratulations in order, Colonel?”

“A little premature, Ling. Let us wait until the man has been removed from American soil. It’s not wise to presume too much.”

Ling nodded. “Perhaps you are right, Colonel.”

“Even so, we should be allowed a degree of satisfaction. As operations go, this first phase appears to have been executed with precision and timing.”

“That was thought when the first strike against the Zero operation was mounted.”

The speaker was seated halfway along the table. A thick-set figure with a shaved head set on a squat neck, Yang Zhou was wearing civilian clothing. As always, he looked as though he had just stepped out of a tailor’s store; Zhou made no concessions to the austere dress code of the Chinese system. No one ever thought about challenging him over that. The man was head of a security section and had complete autonomy over what he said and did. He was on this occasion assigned to be Colonel Chan’s personal bodyguard, ordered to accompany him wherever he went and to protect him. The order had come from the highest authority, and even Zhou was required to accept.

“Zhou, we are talking about something that happened a number of years ago,” Chan said. “I have read the reports that were written about the affair. General Tung Shan paid the price because his operation was ill-conceived and he failed to anticipate the opposition. He made his strike on American soil and was in unknown territory. There was no backing for him. No means to call in assistance when things began to go wrong.”

“He was reckless,” Zhou argued. “He placed his people in jeopardy and they were abandoned.”

“If I remember correctly, didn’t a couple of Shan’s team desert and stay in America?” Major Ling returned.

Chan nodded. “It has not been forgotten. Shao Yeng and Yin Tang. To date we have not been able to locate them. But the search continues. When they defected, they were in possession of a great deal of money that had been allocated to the mission. That will have enabled them to move around and stay concealed.” He raised his hands. “As we are all aware, if you have money in America it is possible to buy anything. Including anonymity.”

“We are still active in searching for those traitors. We will find them,” Zhou declared.

“I do not doubt that,” Chan said. “Would it were in my own lifetime.”

Zhou stiffened, face taut with anger, but there was little he could say. His operatives had failed and werestill failing to locate the two men.

The door at the far end of the room opened and a wheeled trolley was pushed inside. It held pots of tea and coffee. Cups were filled on request before the group around the table was left alone again.

There were seven other uniformed attendees sitting around the table. Each had an open folder in front of him.

Placing his cup on the table, Chan said, “I understand there are questions to be asked. Shall we begin?”

“As I have only recently been assigned to your group, Colonel Chan, my knowledge of this project is not complete. May I ask for clarification?”

The speaker was a young military officer. His uniform was in pristine condition, hair neat and precise. Eagerness shone in his eyes. His name was Kung Lang. Chan had heard good things about the man’s progress through the ranks.

“For the benefit of Major Lang, and any others not fully aware of this operation, I will take you through it this one time,” Chan said. “Make notes, because if you miss anything it will not be repeated. I have no time to keep going over the facts.”

Chan spent the next twenty minutes cataloging the Zero operation from its inception to the less-than-satisfactory conclusion of the original Chinese strike against it. He held nothing back, giving all the names and locations.

“We became entangled with a separate operation mounted by disaffected Americans who were attempting a coup d’état. That and our presence became known and, as you all are aware, our operation was defeated. We were forced to abandon, but we did not forget.

“The Zero prize is still something we covet. It is still, as then, something we would like to get our hands on. In your files you will have read and realized the potential threat it poses. Our Pacific Rim friends, who were anxious for us to gain control of the platform at the time, have not backed down from their desires. Apart from the weapons technology, the ability for Zero to see and hear so much could prove embarrassing. If that ability fell into our control, everything would be reversed.”

“Surely the Americans would resist any attempt to take control from their hands,” one of the listeners said.

“Of course they would. Which is why we need help from this man Kaplan. He understands Zero like no one else. In reality he is Zero. The man carries everything there is to know about his creation. He has refused from day one to reveal certain details about Zero’s human-machine interface. He cleverly kept the details of his creation in his head, allowing only as much as was necessary to make the process possible. Saul Kaplan is an extremely clever man. Holding back on certain aspects of the design and interface technology has placed him in a unique position.”

“If he dies?” someone asked. “Surely he must have considered that possibility.”

“Even I do not have insight into that. It will be something we will attempt to find out once Kaplan is safely in our hands.”

Kung Lang leaned forward. “There must exist a contingency plan for the sudden death of this man,” he said. “I find it difficult to conceive there is nothing held in reserve.”

“You may be correct, Lang, and it will be one of the matters under consideration when Kaplan is being questioned. I must myself admit to having reservations over that very aspect of this affair. Rest assured that I will be pursuing that extremely thoroughly.”

The session went on for another hour and by the end of it Chan was convinced his team was up to date on every aspect of Zero known to them.

When he returned to his office, leaving them briefly to discuss the meeting between themselves, his mind was full of unanswered questions that only Saul Kaplan could answer. Chan was anticipating the confrontation of minds when he finally came face-to-face with the man. As confident as he was of his own abilities, he hoped he would match up to the American. Kaplan was no simpleton—the man who had devised and orchestrated the building of the Zero Platform had nothing to prove to anyone. The sheer brilliance coming from inside his head told Chan he would be facing a man capable of a technological marvel. Kaplan’s genius had conceived and produced something that had never been done before. Not just the floating platform—but the convergence of man and machine on a new, unheard-of level.

If he did nothing else with his life, Chan was determined to gain that knowledge so he could present Zero to his beloved country. If China could get its hands on Zero, the balance of many things would change—away from the United States and toward his country.

It was, Chan knew, a dream worth pursuing.

Having Zero in China’s control would be a major coup, for him as well as for his nation. If he, Chan, could present Zero to his leaders, he would be able to stand tall in the hierarchy. From such heights he would command not only respect but power. And power was something Chan desired. It was a need he had long harbored. He had little need for monetary gain. That was only a fleeting thing. But long-term power was something else. To achieve strength in a position of influence stirred deep feelings inside him. A basic, intoxicating feeling that demanded fulfillment.

If he could achieve total control over the American creation, it would offer him everything he wanted. His name would be forever remembered in China’s history. He, Xia Chan, would be known as the man who took the Zero Project away from the Americans and offered it to his people.

That was a victory worth aiming for.

And it was to that end Xia Chan looked.

* * *

ONE OF CHAN’S OFFICERS called him on the office phone.

“Arrangements are complete. You will be able to leave within the next hour.”

Xia Chan allowed himself a brief smile. He acknowledged the call and put down the phone. He leaned back in his padded chair, going over the details of the forthcoming trip in his mind. Finally he picked up the phone and spoke to one of his aides.

“Call the airstrip and tell my pilot to be ready when I arrive. He can be advised of our destination now so he can key in his route. Tell him I need to leave as soon as possible. I will need to speak to the group again before I leave. Tell them the meeting will continue shortly. Then come into my office.”

The aide was a thin, prematurely balding young officer. He always appeared nervous in Chan’s presence.

“You know what to do?”

“Yes, Colonel.”

“No mistakes. No one is to leave with any written notes. We keep everything in-house. If you find anything it must be burned. You understand?”

“Yes, Colonel. It will be done.”

When the aide had gone, Chan retired to his private quarters, where he changed from his uniform and dressed in a smart suit, shirt and tie. He stepped into soft-soled black shoes, already polished to a high shine. He checked the expensive attaché case sitting on the floor. It contained his passport and documentation and a fully charged sat phone. There was money and credit cards—not that he expected to need them, but it was always a wise move to have such things handy.

He left his office and made his way to the conference room where his team was waiting. He stood at the head of the table as they all turned to face him.

“As I told you earlier, the man Kaplan is now in our hands and I am leaving shortly to fly to the rendezvous where the American will be held while he is interrogated. Yang Zhou will accompany me. While we are away, I want the facility made ready. Check everything and then check it again. I want all systems up and ready when I return.” Chan stared from face to face. “I hope this is fully understood. No excuses. The facility must be ready when I return with Kaplan.”

The discomfort around the table was noticeable. That pleased Chan. He needed the team fully focused. No wavering.

“We will not let you down,” Major Ling said.

“I am pleased to hear that, Ling. In your case I hope nothing goes wrong, because I am leaving you in charge. All of you will report to Major Ling. Is that understood? While I am away he is responsible. He acts for me and his orders will be followed.”

Major Ling remained silent, aware of the responsibility and just as aware of what would happen if he failed.

“I must be excused to collect my things, Colonel,” Yang Zhou said.

“Very well. In my office in twenty minutes.” As Zhou left, Chan returned to face his team. “We must make this work. If we wish to take control of Zero, our efforts must be doubled. You will remain at your stations day and night. Ling, you will arrange for food and drink to be delivered to you. Bedding is to be provided. I give you the authority to use my name. If anyone raises objections, simply refer them to me. Understood?”

“Yes, Colonel.”

Chan took Ling aside. “This is your opportunity to make your mark,” he said. “Do not fail yourself or me. There is much riding on this project. If we succeed, we bring a great deal of glory to China. Important eyes are on us, Ling. You understand?”

“Yes, Colonel.”

“All the electronic equipment must be fully readied. When I return with Kaplan, I am confident he will be ready to comply. His input will be vital and must be matched by the setup. Make sure all is prepared.”

Ling nodded.

Chan left the conference room and returned to his office to find Zhou already there.

“The car is waiting for us,” Zhou said.

They went outside where the official car was idling. An aide stepped forward to open the rear door. “Your luggage is in the trunk, Colonel,” he said.

As soon as they were seated, the car pulled away and drove out of the grounds, picking up the near-deserted road. Neither man spoke. They both had their thoughts to deal with, and small talk was not a skill either had learned.

The drive to the isolated military airfield took just over a half hour. Sitting on the runway was a sleek Gulfstream G650. Powered by twin Rolls-Royce BR725 turbofan engines, the executive jet had a cruising speed of around 560 mph, with a ceiling of 51,000 feet. It would cruise 7000 nautical miles before needing refueling. Chan had exclusive use of this luxurious aircraft and had used it many times. The Gulfstream had civilian markings and a logo for a company that existed only on paper, based in Hong Kong. The crew wore smart nonmilitary uniforms and the young woman who welcomed them aboard was fresh-faced and attractive. She guided them to their seats as their driver brought the luggage on board.

The woman’s name was Jui Kai.

Chan knew her very well. On an extremely intimate level. His involvement with her had been ongoing for some months. Her natural beauty and her entrancing personality charmed him. He enjoyed her company immensely.

“It is good to see you again, Colonel. It has been some time,” the young woman said, playing the game for the plane’s crew. “I hope you enjoy the flight.”

“I am certain I will, my dear.”

Zhou studied the Gulfstream’s well-appointed interior with a jaundiced eye. “A very expensive toy,” he stated.

“But necessary,” Chan said.

“If you believe so,” Zhou said.

Jui Kai moved away to the rear of the jet, where the galley was located.

Zhou mumbled something about it being a long flight as he pushed his way to a seat.

“Look on this as an adventure,” Chan said. “We may be witnesses to China’s greatest success in the field of espionage.”

“Just because we have this gweilo does not mean we yet have his secrets,” Zhou said.

“Foreign devil? Ever the pessimist, Yang Zhou.”

“I prefer to call myself a realist. Nothing is won until the race is over.”

“Very good,” Chan said. “But I have a good feeling about this, Zhou. I don’t deny we have much work ahead of us. From what I have learned about this man Kaplan, he may be difficult to break. Which in itself offers a challenge.”

Jui Kai appeared again from the galley.

“May I offer you both a drink? Colonel? Mr. Zhou?”

“A glass of very decadent American whiskey would be pleasant,” Chan said, smiling.

“Mr. Zhou?”

Zhou managed a sharp nod. “The same,” he said. “With ice.”

“Ice?” Chan said. “What a disrespectful way to treat good whiskey.”

Zhou slumped into his seat and stared out the side window.

The Gulfstream began to move as the pilot increased power. It held position at the end of the runway, the engines building until there was sufficient power to speed it along the tarmac and into a fast rise.

Minutes later they were at cruising altitude.

Jui Kai brought the drinks, handing them to Chan and Zhou. “Please call me if you require anything further.”

Chan nodded. He smiled at the young woman. An expression of familiarity. Extreme familiarity. He sometimes found it difficult to control his feelings in her presence.

“When do we eat?” Zhou asked. He was so concerned with his stomach he failed to notice the looks exchanged between Chan and Kai.

“Whenever you wish, sir,” she said.

Chan relaxed into the soft, cream-colored leather seat, savoring the mellow whiskey. He could still hear Zhou grumbling to himself.

It was, he realized, definitely going to be a long flight—around fifteen hours with a stop for refueling. All that time with Yang Zhou sitting across from him. As much as Chan recognized the man as an expert in his work, he was not so impressed with Zhou’s social skills.

From what he knew of the man, it was obvious Zhou had little in the way of a social life. He gave himself to the job, denying pleasure and spending much of his off-duty time in his office. A strange and reclusive life, Chan decided, but one Zhou chose.

Chan tried to push the negative thoughts out of his mind, concentrating on the task ahead.

He was looking forward to meeting Dr. Luc Melier again. It had been some time since he had been involved with the man. Melier, Chinese-French, was an excellent choice to work on Kaplan. He resided in France and refused to travel very far to carry out his work, which was why Chan was coming to meet him.

Melier’s reputation as a skilled manipulator was without equal. Chan had seen him on other occasions, working to break through stubborn minds. He did it with comparative ease, very seldom having to resort to anything close to violence—not that it was ruled out entirely because there were times when the minimal amount of force could tilt the balance.

That would be where Zhou came into his own. The man had no kind of conscience when it came to using brutal methods. It was quite an education watching the man at work; the only thing that troubled Chan was how Zhou obviously took great pleasure inflicting hurt on others. Yet there was a place for Zhou, and Chan never interfered when it came time to employ the man’s talents.

An hour into the flight, Zhou fell asleep. He had already eaten, downed a couple more whiskies and had even stopped grumbling. Chan hoped the man might sleep for the rest of the flight. He doubted that would happen.

He took tea when Kai offered it, not yet ready for food himself, allowing a pleasured smile when her slim, warm hand brushed his as she passed him his drink. When she left, he slid a file from his attaché case and spent some time going through work-related documents. There was, he thought, always something that needed his attention. Not that he minded. Xia Chan was dedicated to his profession, the demands of his position keeping him fully occupied. At present it was the Zero Project that demanded his time. Though it was a consuming matter, Chan did not regret a second. It was the single most important thing in his life at the moment. Sanctioned by the supreme authority in the country and placed in Chan’s hands, he understood that nothing of such importance would come his way again and he was aware of the honor that had been bestowed upon him.

Failure was something he refused to even consider.

It would not happen.

He would breathe his last before he would concede victory.

* * *

THEY MADE THEIR one stop for refueling and then continued with the flight. Chan was able to steal a little time with Kai as Zhou settled back in his reclined seat, covered in a pair of blankets. In the well-appointed galley, she came into his arms and they allowed themselves some personal time. For Chan it was a welcome distraction from the demands of his office and Kai gave him much to think about. She was as skilled as she was beautiful, and Chan found himself briefly allowing his demanding mission to be pushed aside.

* * *

THE LONG FLIGHT ended in late afternoon. The Gulfstream took a lengthy sweep as it lined up on the single runway of the private airfield and made a fast approach, with barely a jolt as it touched down. It slowed and cruised to the parking area, coming to a gentle stop adjacent to the small airport building.

Chan had rested, worked and was in a pleasurable mood.

“Colonel, it may be cold when you disembark,” Kai said. “I have your overcoat here.”

“Thank you, my dear.” Chan stood and allowed her to assist him in putting on the long coat. “The flight has been made bearable by your presence once again, Jui. I am so pleased you are here.”