"That's the way I view it. Appeasement is not what you want to do with the People's Republic of China. Beijing is trying to convince Japan, South Korea, Taiwan, and the Philippines that we're a declining power that can no longer protect them."
Scott turned onto their street. "They're making steady progress in the Western hemisphere too. From Canada, to Cuba, to Panama, to South America, Beijing is working on eroding U.S. ties to our allies. It's insidious and reaches into every segment of society, whether it's defense contractors, scientists, politicians, or whoever.
"The PLA and the Chinese government have penetrated U.S. capital markets. They're methodically sucking billions of dollars from unsuspecting Americans, and we're letting them get away with it — billions of American dollars to help Beijing build a powerful military to confront us. Incredible — while our politicians just waddle along, blissfully dancing with the dragon."
His jaw became rigid. "Here's the real problem for the Chicoms in Beijing. Time is not on their side."
"In what way?"
"One of these days the boys in Beijing will look around and see the rise of the Chinese middle class, the growing social unrest, America's ever-expanding technological edge, the U.S. military becoming stronger, Taiwan's increasing assertiveness, and conclude that they have to do something drastic. That's what makes the situation so dangerous."
Jackie's satellite phone rang and she answered it.
Scott drove into their driveway.
"Okay, have fun, enjoy yourself, and we'll keep you informed."
"Merrick?"
"Yes. We missed her at the base by ten minutes."
"Where is she?"
"In a hotel near Santa Barbara."
Scott eased the dripping Ferrari inside the garage. "You didn't tell her about Lou Emerson?"
"No, for a reason."
"At this stage, that was probably the right thing to do." Scott got out of the car and double-locked the garage door from the inside. "At least she's in a safe place."
"Let's hope so."
The early morning sky was showing a hint of daylight as Jackie brewed a pot of mint tea and poured fresh orange juice into their glasses. While she fixed breakfast, Scott brought in the Washington Post and USA Today. He checked the weather for the flight to Marine Corps Air Station Cherry Point, North Carolina, filed an instrument flight plan, and called Signature Flight Support at Washington Dulles International Airport.
He instructed the customer service representative to have the fuel tanks on his Beech A36 Bonanza topped off, then sat down to have a light breakfast with Jackie. He was about to pepper his scrambled eggs when he turned to the third page of USA Today and fixed his eyes on the leading headline.
"Here we go again."
"What?" Jackie asked while she poured tea.
"Another mysterious crash."
"Where?"
"The Sea of Japan — a Japanese AWACS." He scanned the article and handed the paper to her. "All military aircraft so far — no civilian airplanes in these crashes."
She folded the paper to look at the headline. "An AWACS isn't a fighter plane or bomber — it isn't a direct threat, so why was it downed?"
"Who knows?"
She studied the article.
NO SURVIVORS IN JAPANESE AWACS CRASH
By Thad K. Marlow
USA TODAY
NAGOYA, JAPAN — A Japanese Air Force Boeing 767 AWACS reconnaissance plane crashed into the Sea of Japan approximately 125 miles northwest of Kanazawa, apanese Air Force sources have confirmed. There were no survivors, and the cause of the crash is being investigated.
Operating from the Hamamatsu Air Base near Nagoya, the $450-million aircraft, the most expensive in the Japanese inventory, went down at 11:37 P. M. local time while conducting a routine patrol flight. The remaining fleet of Japanese 767 AWACS planes will be grounded pending the outcome of the initial accident investigation, said Lt. Comdr. Yoshio Okura, spokesperson for the Japanese Air Force.
A senior official at the Air Traffic Flow Management Center in Fukuoka, Japan, who spoke on condition of anonymity, said the AWACS reported being harassed by an unidentified object moments before communications were lost with the early-warning airplane.
The crew of a trawler operating in the Sea of Japan reported seeing a strange, fast moving bluish-white light in the night sky prior to observing a bright, loud explosion high over their position. The trawler crew, who reported no survivors from the AWACS plane, recovered two bodies and several small pieces of debris from the crash site.
"Well," Scott said, "I guess we can eliminate the Japanese from the likely list of suspects."
Finished with the article, she looked up. "I wouldn't be too sure."
"Why not?"
"It could be a ruse to cast doubt elsewhere."
"You have to be kidding."
"No, I'm not kidding — they're very clever people."
Scott chuckled as he reached for his juice. "Almost a half-billion dollars to create a smokescreen?"
"What better way to develop an illusion?"
"How about downing three or four less expensive airplanes?"
"That would look like—"
From the window ledge, Jackie's satellite phone interrupted their conversation. She answered while Scott downed his glass of juice and reached for the Post.
"No, it's perfectly okay," she said to the caller. "I've been up for nearly an hour and a half."
She listened intently.
When he saw Jackie frown, Scott stopped eating and placed his fork on his plate. While he listened to the one-sided conversation, Jackie reached for a pen and a scratch pad. She wrote the name Merrick and shoved the note toward Scott. He glanced at it and then addressed his eggs.
"I understand. Please listen carefully to me. Don't go near your car. Leave it where it is. Go to the hotel lobby and stay there until we can make arrangements to have the FBI pick you up and take you to a safe place."
Jackie switched the phone to her other ear. "Yes, we have the authority — trust me. In fact, I'll be talking to the director of the FBI as soon as we hang up. The closest field office is in Los Angeles, so it may take a while. Pack your belongings and head for the lobby — call us when you're settled in."
After she hung up, Jackie stared at the phone.
"What's going on?"
"Cliff Earlywine is dead."
Scott was stunned. "What?"
"He's been killed."
"How did he die?"
"Merrick saw a report on television about Earlywine dying in a traffic accident last evening near Oceanside, California. The commentator said Cliff was a well-known newspaper reporter who had broken a number of big stories and was apparently working on a major story at the time of his death."
"Where is she, and what's with the FBI?"
"She's at the Rancho Santa Barbara Marriott. After we talked to her yesterday, she met some people who invited her to join them for an afternoon tour of the wineries in the region."
"Were they Orientals?"
"I didn't ask — damn," she said, reaching for Scott's phone directory. "I'll call information."
"Yeah, we need to find out."
"At any rate, when they got back from the tour, they went out for a late dinner. Afterward her friends brought her back to the hotel and she went to bed. She couldn't go to sleep, so around three o'clock she switched on the television to get a news update. When she heard Cliff's name, she sat up in shock, then called us."
"What's her frame of mind now?"
"From the sound of her voice, she seems pretty concerned."
"Good — she needs to stay alert."
Jackie gave him a stern look. "She can take care of herself."
"Okay, okay." He extended his palms toward Jackie. "Lighten up; try relaxing for a change."