The phone sitting on the desk blotter vibrated, and He Gang observed the number with curiosity for a moment before answering.
“Yes,” he said.
“The Americans have rescued her.” The voice was breathless with anxiety.
He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, feeling the tension evaporate from his body. They had been careful to move the American spy to a secure location that was beyond the normal scope of US intelligence-gathering efforts to make it appear as if they were moving her someplace more secure.
“Good,” the General replied.
“Sir?” The voice on the other end was understandably confused. There were only a handful of people within his ranks who knew the full breadth of their operation. And none of them were within the eighth bureau that was responsible for counterintelligence.
“I must meet with Admiral Qin Guoping immediately. Keep me advised.”
The General ended the call and reached for his red silk tie resting on the blotter atop the simple wooden desk. With practiced hands, he flipped up the collar of his shirt, tied a flawless double Windsor knot, and smoothed out his collar before checking his appearance in the dirty mirror on the wall next to the door.
He had chosen not to divulge details of the operation with the military until this exact moment. And though it had come with risks, the result was more than ample to justify the means.
With one more glance in the mirror, He Gang stepped out of the office and walked briskly down the hall to the stairwell at the opposite end of the building. The Admiral’s office was a short walk away, but there was no guarantee he would be there at this early hour. If he had to track the Admiral down at his quarters, it would add unnecessary risk to the timeline.
Let us hope he is there.
As he walked, he dialed a number and waited for the person on the other end to pick up. Regardless of the time of day, he always answered the phone.
This time was no exception as the hoarse voice answered after three rings, “Yes, General.”
“The trap has been set.”
The man on the other end grunted in acknowledgment. “And the doctor?”
He Gang pushed open the door at the end of the hall and stepped out into the clear and humid night. “Move in now.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Call me when it’s done.” He Gang ended the call and lengthened his stride as he hurried across the small courtyard to the building housing the South Sea Fleet’s submarine headquarters on the installation. Based in Zhanjiang, the South Sea Fleet was one of the largest in the People’s Liberation Army Navy due to the contested waters and islands off the coast of Vietnam. While the fleet’s surface force was based in Zhanjiang, the submarine fleet was based in Yulin, and its commander was the ranking naval officer on the base.
He Gang walked through the front door and bypassed the helmeted guard at the quarterdeck who was largely ceremonial despite being armed with a polished QSZ-92 service pistol in a starched canvas holster. Whether the pistol was loaded with 5.8 x 21mm armor-piercing rounds was irrelevant to him. The sentry knew better than to stop the General.
He pushed through the double doors into an operations center abuzz with a flurry of activity as naval officers ran back and forth across the room. He Gang spotted the Admiral and hurried to close the distance between them.
The Admiral looked up to see the General approach and held up a hand. “It’s not a good time. We are under attack, and I need to deploy our fleet to the safety of open water.”
“We are not under attack, Admiral,” He Gang replied calmly.
Admiral Qin Guoping set the phone he was holding back onto the cradle and considered him with curiosity. “Two of our frontline fighters and one helicopter have been shot down. What is that, if not a prelude to war?”
He Gang repeated himself. “We are not under attack, Admiral. May we speak in private?”
The Admiral gestured over his shoulder to the private conference room behind his desk on the floor of the operations center. He Gang led the way into the room and waited for the Admiral to enter before closing the door to seal them off from the commotion on the floor.
“Explain yourself,” the Admiral said tersely.
“The Americans are responding to an operation that has been sanctioned at the highest levels. I can’t go into the details. But if you’d like, I can get General Peng Biao on the phone for you to give you your orders directly.”
The Admiral stiffened at hearing the Defense Minister’s name. “What do you need?”
“I need you to direct your forces to Taipei, China,” He Gang replied calmly.
The two men locked eyes and remained silent for several moments, each considering their options. Admiral Qin Guoping had to know his career hinged on the very next decision he made. He would either be favored by the Party and continue his meteoric rise within the PLAN, or he would be arrested as a traitor for allowing Western aggression to go unchecked.
He Gang knew the success of his operation was dependent on the Admiral allowing the Americans to abscond with their repatriated spy and focus his efforts on the reclamation of Taipei.
Their staring contest was broken by a soft knock at the door. Both men turned to look at a commander who opened the door and stepped inside and addressed the Admiral. “Sir, the Americans have destroyed a radar facility on Woody Island, and we are scrambling additional fighters to respond.”
He Gang turned back to the Admiral. “Your decision?”
A few minutes later, Admiral Qin Guoping set the phone down and turned to He Gang with a somber look on his face. Not quite ashen, he was pale enough that several of his aides looked at him with concern and stepped closer to the older man. He waved them off.
“Is it done?”
The Admiral nodded. “Our remaining fighters are returning to base.”
“Come with me,” He Gang commanded.
They returned to the conference room, where He Gang dressed down the Admiral in a hushed tone that barely hid his boiling anger. “The next time I tell you to do something, you do it exactly as I say without hesitation. Is that clear?”
The Admiral nodded, then lowered his eyes to He Gang’s feet.
“If you do not do as you are told, you will not only be removed from your position here, but you will disappear from the face of the earth. Along with your wife, your two sons, and their entire families. Your lineage will cease to exist.”
The Admiral remained silent, but some coloring returned to his face at the mention of his wife and sons. Both his sons served in the People’s Liberation Army Navy, and one was on the island as a junior officer assigned to a ballistic missile submarine. The Admiral knew that He Gang was not to be crossed.
“Our fighters that went missing were lost during a training accident,” He Gang stated.
The Admiral looked up at him. “But the Americans shot them down.”
He Gang shook his head firmly. “Listen to me very carefully because I will not repeat myself. The fighters that went missing were lost during a training accident. We are not at war with the United States.”
Not yet.
“I must report this to the Fleet Commander,” Qin Guoping persisted.
He Gang locked eyes with the Admiral as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. Without looking at it, he dialed a number, put it on speaker, and handed it to Qin Guoping. The Admiral took the phone hesitantly.
When the call connected, a deep voice asked, “How can I help you, General?”
The Admiral’s eyes flashed to He Gang with immediate recognition. “Admiral Fu Hai…”
Qin Guoping spoke with the South China Sea Fleet Commander almost daily and had known him for close to twenty years. He considered him a close friend and respected him as an officer.