He would have to be here tomorrow morning. Could he get to Tucson and back before then?
‘Where’s the girl being held?’ Cole asked.
‘We’re not holding her anymore,’ Lautner answered to Cole’s surprise. ‘She was here on a tourist visa, which has expired. She’s an illegal alien, and ICE has taken custody, they’ve got her on a flight back to Tokyo.’
Cole felt his heart falling. ‘When does it leave?’ he asked breathlessly.
‘Leave?’ came the reply. ‘It’s already left, my friend. Doc cleared her as ready to fly this afternoon, they got her on the first flight out of here.’ There was a pause, and Cole thought the man might be checking his watch. ‘Must be halfway over the Pacific by now. And a good job too, if you ask me. Last thing Tucson needs is another whore running around, am I right?’
Cole clenched the receiver hard, enraged. ‘Your check will be in the post,’ he said through gritted teeth, and hung up on the man before he said something he would regret.
His daughter.
Gone.
If only he’d called Tucson PD before, he could have used his connections, had someone in the White House call ICE, get them to let her stay.
But he hadn’t, and now she was gone.
Cole downed the Scotch, mind clarifying.
In a way, it was a good thing; he needed his thoughts focused on the job at hand. Memories of Thailand, of Aoki Asami, would just hinder him. Meeting his daughter would cloud his judgment.
No, he decided, he had to forget about her for now. He had to perform his mission, do what he had to do.
When Wu was dead, the government rescued and ready to take back control of China, Cole could deal with personal issues then — and only then.
At least Michiko would be safe in Japan until he got there to search for her — her home was surely better than a prison cell in Arizona.
Cole could only hope that she was still there when he was finished with General Wu.
Because, after all he had been through, there was no way in hell he could face losing another daughter.
PART TWO
1
The accommodations could have been worse, thought Kang Xing, National Minister of Defense, as he stretched out on the carved wooden bench in the Wuyingdian, the Hall of Martial Valor.
Located to the west of the Forbidden City’s Gate of Prosperous Harmony and opposite the Hall of Literary Glory, the ancient building was just one of many similar mini-palaces he and the other ministers had occupied since their arrest three days earlier. They were being kept on the move, and Kang knew it was less due to Wu’s fear of a rescue attempt as it was an effort to keep them constantly on edge. If they were allowed to relax, they could start to think about making plans of their own, and that would be the last thing that Wu would want.
Most of the generals from the Central Military Commission were behind Wu, and had stayed to support him. Kang, meanwhile, was quite happy where he was; he had no wish to be associated with General Wu — in public, at least — and had suggested to the man that it made sense for him keep an ‘insider’ among the gathered prisoners — the remaining members of the Central Politburo of the Communist Party of China, the men and women who had essentially ruled the nation, until very recently at least.
The two Vice Chairmen of the Central Military Commission who also served on the Politburo, both generals in the People’s Liberation Army, were right by Wu’s side back in the Zhongnonhai compound, the modern seat of China’s government which rested next door to the Forbidden City. They were helping constitute the new military regime which would rule the nation, loyal aides to General Wu.
As the sole military officer remaining with the Politburo, Kang Xing would perhaps be treated with suspicion, but he explained to Wu that his insights would be invaluable, and the new paramount leader had finally agreed.
He would only tell General Wu what he wanted him to know, of course; in fact, he had recently given the general a snippet of information that he really hoped the man would act upon. But the main reason for his wanting to stay behind with the rest of the group was because he didn’t want his protégé, Vice Premier Chang Wubei, to be without his influence.
Indeed, Kang’s guidance of Chang was about to reach a time of critical importance. If Wu didn’t want the men and women in this room to make plans, then he was too late already — Kang had enough for all of them.
They were being informed of nothing outside the walls of the Forbidden City — all the better to keep them psychologically off-balance — but Kang knew exactly what Wu would be doing. After all, he had subtly suggested a large part of it himself. But even if he hadn’t, it wouldn’t have taken a genius to figure out — even before the coup, the general had used his influence to position naval forces in a prime position to attack the Diaoyu Islands. He had been surprised that Tsang Feng hadn’t seen it himself; but then again, he reminded himself, this was the exact reason why the man had been removed in the first place. No eye for military maneuvers; no stomach for war.
Taiwan would be next, of course; oil profits notwithstanding, the Diaoyus were a mere stepping stone towards China’s rightful reclamation of the important island of Taiwan, illegally taken by the treacherous forces of Chiang Kai-Shek and his diabolical Kuomintang, along with half of China’s gold reserves over half a century before.
Wu would waste no time in taking it back, Kang was sure.
Good for him.
Kang smiled lazily as he reclined back further on the bench.
‘Xing?’ a furtive voice whispered, destroying his attempt at relaxation. It had to be Chang; nobody else would dare disturb him.
Suppressing his annoyance, Kang sat up on the bench and looked at the man before him through his hooded eyes. Chang was sweating, Kang was disgusted to see, and it had nothing to do with the early June heat that was just starting to bring the stifling humidity of summer to their great city. The man was scared and — what was worse — he was showing it.
This, Kang decided, would not do at all; it did not fit with any of his plans.
‘Wubei,’ Kang cautioned sternly, ‘get a grip on yourself. Have you gone mad? You cannot let the others see that you are afraid. Remember what we talked about — this is your great chance, and I am not about to see you make a mess of it.’
‘My great chance?’ Chang whispered, amazed. ‘How can you say that? How can you sit there and be so calm? Are you not worried?’
Kang shook his head slowly, disappointed that the young man did not have more faith. If Kang trusted him to know more, he would be truly amazed, Kang knew; indeed, Chang wouldn’t have been able to believe Kang’s foresight, his courage, his absolute determination.
He wouldn’t have been able to believe it, which was exactly why Kang hadn’t told him everything; his volatile, precious personality wouldn’t have been able to tolerate it.
But Chang Wubei was Kang’s man for a reason — and a large part of that reason was his openness to manipulation. Kang really shouldn’t have been surprised that Chang was finding it hard to cope. But the bottom line was that he had to learn to control himself better.
‘One of the skills you need to master,’ Kang advised him quietly, ‘is how to mask your emotions. You say how can I not worry. What makes you think I am not worried? I know that at any moment the doors here may burst open, and we may all suffer the same fate as President Tsang. My heart is beating hard in my chest, just the same as yours. The art is in not showing it.’