He crossed over to Dad's main workbench, saw a nail in the brown wall and a rectangular square where the paint looked darker and was not coated by a layer of dust.
Indeed, a picture had hung there. Mitchell opened one of the bench's side drawers and found it.
So Dad had remembered the picture at the last minute and had rushed out to the shop to hide it. He was proud of his son but too self-conscious to show it.
Mitchell slipped the frame back into the drawer and smiled. Kristen had given him much more than she knew.
This was a homecoming he would never forget.
SIXTEEN
Special Operations Forces of the Nanjing Military Region of China were code-named the Flying Dragons, and consequently People's Liberation Army Colonel Xu Dingfa had suggested back in 2008 that the operation be called Pouncing Dragon, since colleagues from his old Special Forces group would play a key role in the attack on Taipei. The name had remained unchanged for all that time.
At the moment, he was seated in his office, sharing a cup of morning tea with his most esteemed colleague, Major-General Chen Yi, commander of the entire region. Only a select few were aware of Chen's visit, and Xu understood why the general did not want to discuss matters electronically or over the phone.
"As you predicted, the time is drawing near," Xu said, lifting his chin at a copy of the Beijing Daily resting on his desk. "They completed their negotiations yesterday morning."
Chen smiled knowingly, his lazy left eyelid barely moving. "Spring comes early this year."
Taiwanese officials had announced that they had reached an agreement with the United States to forgo three diesel submarines for one new-conversion Ohio-class SSGN. The Ohio SSGN was capable of ripple firing 154 Tomahawk Cruise Missiles. No modifications were needed to Chingshan, Taiwan's recently completed secret submarine pen carved into a mountainside on the east coast. This was the first nuclear submarine the U.S. had ever considered selling to a foreign government, though Xu knew that the sale was subject to ratification by Congress.
If all went well, their government would deem the sale a provocative act and deploy additional ground troops to its military facilities from Shanghai to Xiamen.
Live-fire and force-on-force concentration exercises, along with aggressive amphibious operations exercises would commence immediately.
Moreover, the country's Revolution in Military Affairs (RMA) — the phrase coined to outline the military's desire to build a smaller, more technologically advanced force — had resulted in the creation of many more high-tech units designed to target enemy communications and computer systems as well as jam the guidance systems of precision-guided munitions.
These smaller, better-equipped units, along with Xu's Special Forces teams, were exactly what the Spring Tiger Group required to initiate the first stage of its plan.
Tigers born in spring were on their own after the second year, the third spring, but Xu and his group had been waiting much longer than that to exact their will when others in Beijing were too cowardly to do so. The time had drawn near for the East and West to vie for supremacy in the Pacific.
"General, we will continue to monitor the situation very closely. I trust you will notify me when it is time to prepare for the final session."
"I will send the usual courier." Chen's attention turned to the photograph on Xu's desk. "And you may tell your parents that it will not be long now."
Xu nodded. After a long night of drinking, he had, quite regretfully, shared that most intimate story with the general, whose own lifelong frustration with the government motivated him to act. Chen stood. "I have a very busy day and a plane ride this afternoon. I will be meeting with the deputy director tomorrow."
Deputy Director Wang Ya of the Central Military Commission's General Political Department advised one of the most senior members of the PLA. Wang was a zhengzhi junguan (political officer), a graduate of the Chinese Academy of Military Science, a member of the State Council appointed by the National People's Congress (NPC) at the thirteenth National Congress. Chen would speak with the group's most powerful ally in the compound in western Beijing. From the beginning, Wang had offered his strong but silent endorsement of the Tigers' activities. When the time came, Wang's influence would be invaluable.
"General, thank you for coming. I will await your message."
"Excellent. And remember, when the time comes, we will need to move very quickly."
"I understand, sir."
As he showed the general out, Captain Fang Zhi was waiting for him in the outer office.
Fang hurriedly entered and said, "Have you heard the news?"
Xu grinned. "Hours ago, my friend."
"Do you think the time has come?"
Xu hesitated.
During the past four years he and Fang had become close friends. Neither of them had performed very well at the Olympic Games, but it was there that they had forged a relationship.
Once Xu had managed to secure a commission for Fang in the PLA, he had very slowly, very carefully, introduced Fang to his colleagues. Fang had, indeed, shared intimate knowledge of American and allied Special Forces operations and tactics. But Fang had still come from Taiwan, and Xu had been warned by Chen and others that Fang should never be fully trusted.
Consequently, Fang was quite aware of the group's existence and its membership, but he was not part of its inner circle and unaware of the exact nature of its plans. His task, as always, would be to lead the security teams whenever the group convened.
Xu finally answered, "Has the time come? I don't know. It's true we've been waiting for a long time, but conditions must be perfect. Don't forget the other opportunities that have come and gone. We must be patient."
"I understand."
"However, I would like you to go up into the mountains, meet with those elders, and see if we might secure that meeting place we discussed."
"Do you have an exact day and time?"
"Not yet. But I want you to see how quickly they can accommodate us."
"I will take care of it immediately."
With his heart pounding, Fang Zhi left Xu's office and climbed into his Brave Warrior, a new four-wheel-drive off-road vehicle that resembled a smaller version of the American Hummer and was painted olive drab. He left the Group Army Headquarters, heading east for the inland mountains.
Soon the paved roads turned to dirt, and he rumbled past the cold streams and brown forests that would soon warm and return to their lush green. In some areas where the houses were completely shaded by trees, the only signs of civilization were the power and phone poles lining the path.
The road grew steeper, more tortuous, with large limbs overhanging the truck. Fang had only visited the site at night, and he took a moment to marvel over the beautiful countryside. This was his home.
His only wish was that Xu would finally trust him. He sensed the secrets in his friend's tone, and for the past four years, Fang had bided his time, hoping he would eventually be allowed to join the Spring Tigers as an equal partner. He might lack the higher rank of the others, but he was and would continue to be a valuable consultant on the enemy's tactics, techniques, and procedures.
Fang knew he shouldn't resent Xu if that never happened. His friend was under the pressure of his colleagues, and so it was up to Fang to continue to prove his worth and loyalty.