Court breathed into the phone for a moment. “The men tailing me. Do they pose a physical danger?”
“How can I answer that? I don’t even know who they are.”
“I only spotted one vehicle, but the surveillance was competently conducted. I’m guessing they are MSS. My question is: have any Chinese intel operatives killed any Agency operatives in the past… I don’t know, ten years?”
Brewer was unequivocal in her response. “Negative. It’s been more than twenty years, actually. And you’re in Hong Kong, not Beijing. Hong Kong has autonomy, in theory, anyway. If MSS is roving around there in force, it would only happen after the Chinese broke a lot of rules.”
“But it could happen.”
Brewer walked back her last comment. “Sure. We know MSS is there in Hong Kong, obviously. Your entire operation is based on the presumption that the Chinese are conducting intel ops in HK. I’m only saying it isn’t the same as it would be if you were on the mainland, in Beijing or Shanghai. Also there are transnational criminal groups in HK — the Triads, a few of whom China holds some sway over.”
“So you’re saying the MSS might send some local gang to target me.”
She thought this over before answering. “I guess it’s possible if they felt they had to. But you won’t give them a reason, now, will you?”
Court lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. “For some reason, I tend to find my way to people’s wrong side.”
“Then I guess you’ll have to be on your best behavior.”
Court blew out a sigh. “Look, I’m going below radar.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I need to lose these guys, to shake any possible compromise. I won’t be checking in for a while.”
Brewer took her time responding. Then she said, “Well, you are certainly experienced in working alone.”
“And I’m sure you are experienced in conducting reviews of company failures.” It was a shitty thing to say. Court knew he didn’t need to get off on a bad foot with Suzanne Brewer, but he’d been on his own for five years, and was unaccustomed to this bullshit. He was back with the Agency for the first time in a half decade, in a thin quasi relationship, anyway, and he wasn’t a team player who knew how to pick and choose his battles.
Brewer could have gotten her hackles up, Court realized, but instead she remained professional and even contrite. “Remember, you aren’t there on a direct-action mission. You make contact with your target, garner as much intel as you can about the situation, then report in and get out of there. This isn’t you against the bad guys.” She added, “Sorry about the glitch here at the beginning.”
Court Gentry softened. “It’s not your fault. I’ll check in down the road.” He hung up, then listened to the techno music for a minute more. Soon he climbed off the bed, crossed the room, and turned that shit off.
Twenty-five floors below, Wang Ping Li and Tao Man Koh sat in a conference room in the administrative suite of the Peninsula hotel, watching silently while the day manager stood and left the room. The man had been angry about informing on one of his guests, and he’d made a show about demanding Wang and Tao’s credentials, but it was only a show, and while both operatives knew they could have filed a report on the manager’s recalcitrance, they weren’t here in HK to gauge the party loyalty of hoteliers.
And anyway, after a little huffing and puffing, the manager was playing ball. He’d already told them that the guest who’d arrived in the Mercedes was traveling under the name Roger Hartley, and he was ostensibly a businessman from Ohio in the United States. The intelligence officers didn’t have the man’s passport to look at; hotels here in Hong Kong, unlike in China proper, were under no obligation to take their guests’ passports, and the five-star properties like the Peninsula distanced themselves from China by not doing so.
But even though on the surface the Peninsula acted high-minded about guests’ rights, in truth Roger Hartley’s room was already bugged with listening devices; most four- and five-star hotels in HK maintained rooms wired by MSS as a matter of course, though the bugs weren’t turned on unless there was a specific need. Tao would make a call to initiate twenty-four-hour monitoring of Hartley’s room now that he had the room number, and he’d follow up hourly with the listeners for updates.
The manager returned with a pair of key cards and handed them over without a word. This would give Tao and Wang access to the room directly across the hall from Hartley; as it happened it had been vacant, but if a guest had been staying there, the annoyed hotel manager would have moved them out under some emergency-repair ruse. Through a pinhole camera Wang and Tao would attach to their door’s peephole they would have a perfect view of Hartley’s door, and through the motion-detector setting on the device they’d be sure they wouldn’t miss him leaving his room.
The manager had also handed over extra copies of cards that would get them into Hartley’s room itself, in case they wanted to make entry when the man was out.
After passing over the key cards, the manager walked the two intelligence operatives out of the conference room and back into the lobby. He bid them an insincere good day, then turned and went back inside.
Tao looked to Wang. “He was disrespectful.”
“No time to make trouble for him. He gets a pass for now. Let’s go to the room.”
Tao nodded, then said, “Should we call in more eyes to assist?”
“Who? Everyone else here is working for Ministry of Defense. When Colonel Dai finds out we’ve been pulled off his operation, he’ll be angry enough. If we start removing others to help us, he’ll lose his mind.”
The two men headed for the elevators. As soon as the door closed, the mobile phone rang in Tao’s jacket. He looked at the incoming number, then immediately handed the phone over to Wang.
“It’s him.”
Wang took the phone from Tao and answered with a report, not even waiting to be asked where the hell they were. “Way, ni hao, Shangxio.” Yes, hello, Colonel. “We were ordered by our Beijing Control to divert from your operation here and proceed to the airport. An American CIA Dassault Falcon Seven X, tail number—”
Wang stopped talking abruptly and just listened; Tao could tell he’d been interrupted. The elevator stopped and the two men headed up the hall.
Wang spoke again, more softly now. “Yes, sir. Our orders were made clear to us. We then followed our subject to the Peninsula, and we have taken a room across from—”
He stopped speaking again; Tao could hear the voice of the man through the phone at Wang’s ear.
The two men were already in their room with the door shut when Wang spoke again. “I understand, sir. But this came from our department… not yours. Apologies, but despite our seconding to you, our chain of command retains authority to—”
For a third time Wang was interrupted. Tao looked on while Wang listened, nodded compliantly, and ended the call. He looked uncomfortable but made no remarks to his junior colleague.
“What did he say?” Tao finally asked.
“What do you think? He’s mad we left his op to follow the MSS directive, as if we had a choice.”
Tao was the junior man, but he chanced a comment. “Colonel Dai has his own ass on the line on this operation for some reason. The next call we get from him will be the one ordering us to terminate the subject.”
Wang took off his suit coat, still a little damp from his time on the hot roof at the airport. “He’s after a promotion, or maybe, as you suggest, there is some other reason for his personal involvement. If Dai fails here, it will be men like us who will suffer.”