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A lone goose scattered with an angry honk as the van hurled up a wall of green water. After a few seconds, the van filled with water and disappeared into the deep pond, leaving only a diminishing froth of bubbles.

Pablo didn’t wait for it to sink but instead jogged back to the barn. He picked up the envelope and threw it into the truck’s cab before coming back for Ann. Without a word, he carried her to the cab and dropped her in a flat compartment behind the front seats.

“You might as well get comfortable,” he said, starting the truck and shifting into gear. “We have a long trip ahead of us.”

36

THE HELICOPTER FLEW IN FAST AT TREETOP LEVEL, zooming low over the hangars to surprise the waiting dignitaries seated along the runway. It was a military chopper, its fuselage designed with sharp angles and coated with an absorbent material that rendered it nearly invisible to radar. A special composite five-blade main rotor and matching tail assembly added to its stealth qualities by dramatically reducing its noise signature. An aviation expert from Jane’s Defence Weeklywould take one look at the chopper and identify it as a Stealth Hawk, one of the U.S. Army’s heavily modified UH-80 Black Hawks, like the one used in the raid to capture Osama bin Laden. But this helicopter was entirely Chinese built.

The craft swooped about the Yangcun Air Base south of Beijing, buzzing the field several times before alighting. The crowd of generals and defense officials stood and applauded the exhibition of the country’s latest technological triumph. The cheers became muted when a Party official took to an elevated podium and launched into a tired diatribe touting China’s greatness.

Edward Bolcke leaned over to a bullet-eyed man wearing a uniform draped with medals. “Splendid aircraft, General Jintai.”

“Yes, it is,” Jintai said. “And we didn’t even need your help to build it.”

Bolcke shook off the jab with a grin. Having just received Pablo’s call from Maryland, he was brimming with confidence.

The crowd suffered through several more long-winded speeches before being herded into an open hangar with a buffet line. Bolcke trailed the general, a vice-chairman of China’s Central Military Commission, as he mingled with other top People’s Liberation Army officials. After inquiring about a fellow general’s new condominium in Hong Kong, Jintai backtracked to Bolcke.

“My hospitality duties are now complete,” he said to the Austrian. “We have some business to discuss?”

“If you please,” Bolcke replied.

“Very well. Let me find our chief spymaster, and we’ll speak in private.”

Jintai scanned the crowd until locating a slight, bespectacled man drinking a Heineken beer. Tao Liang was a directorate head in the Ministry of State Security, the agency that handled China’s intelligence and counterintelligence activities. Tao stood talking with Zhou Xing, the field operative from Bayan Obo, who calmly studied the assembled dignitaries. The peasant-faced man subtly alerted Tao that Jintai was stalking him while the general was still halfway across the room.

“Tao, there you are,” the general said. “Come, we have a business proposal to evaluate with our old friend Edward Bolcke.”

“Our old friend Bolcke,” Tao said with an acid tone. “Yes, I am curious to hear his latest offerings.”

With Zhou following, the men crossed the hangar to a small private office. It had been prepared for them with a portable liquor cabinet and a platter of dim sum. Jintai poured himself a whiskey and sat down with the others at a teak conference table.

“May I offer my congratulations, gentlemen, on your latest deployment,” Bolcke said. “It is an admirable day for China’s guardians. In a small way.”

He paused, letting his insult register. “I would propose that tomorrow, however, may bring a revolutionary day to your country’s defense.”

“Are you going to emasculate the Russian and American military for us?” Jintai said, chuckling to himself as he downed the last of his whiskey.

“In a manner of speaking, yes.”

“You are a miner and a petty thief, Bolcke. What are you saying?”

Bolcke peered at the general with narrowed eyes. “Yes, I am a miner. I know the value of important minerals, such as gold and silver . . . and rare earths.”

“We understand the value of rare earth elements,” Tao said. “That is why we manipulate the price by using you as a broker to make acquisitions on the open market.”

“It’s no secret that China holds a near monopoly on the production of rare earth elements,” Bolcke said. “But that monopoly has been put at risk by activity at two large mines outside your country. The Americans recently reopened their Mountain Pass Mine, while Australia’s Mount Weld operations are undergoing expansion.”

Jintai puffed out his chest. “We will always be dominant.”

“Perhaps. But you will no longer control the market.”

Bolcke removed a large photo from his attaché case. It showed an aerial view of some smoldering buildings in a desert setting next to an open-pit mine.

“This is the remains of the American facility at Mountain Pass,” Bolcke said. “Their processing operations were destroyed by a fire last week. They will be unable to produce an ounce of rare earth elements for the next two years.”

“You know something about the fire?” Tao asked.

Bolcke stared at him in silence, his lips upturned in a smug grin. He placed a second photo on the table. It showed another open-pit mine in a desert setting.

“This is the Mount Weld Mine in western Australia. It’s owned by the Hobart Mining Company, in which I have recently become a minority shareholder.”

“I understand the Australians have temporarily halted production while they modernize the facility,” Tao said.

“You are correct.”

“That is all very interesting,” Jintai said, “but what does this have to do with us?”

Bolcke took a deep breath and looked down his nose at the general. “It has to do with two actions that you are about to undertake. First, you will underwrite five hundred million dollars so I may purchase outright the Australian mine at Mount Weld. Second, you will institute an immediate ban on Chinese exports of rare earths.”

The room fell silent a moment before Jintai chuckled. “Anything else you desire?” he said, rising to fetch himself more whiskey. “Chief Executive of Hong Kong, perhaps?”

Tao stared at Bolcke, intrigued. “Tell us why we will do these two things.”

“Economics and security,” Bolcke said. “Together, we can control the entire market in rare earth elements. As you know, I broker much of the remaining world output—from places like India, Brazil, and South Africa—which I sell to you, bolstering prices. I can easily contract for long-term delivery from these sources before you announce a halt in exports, locking in those supplies. As for Mount Weld, if you fund my purchase, I will repay you in ore, which you can quietly resell to select trading partners at exorbitant profits, if you so desire. With the Americans out of commission, China will control virtually the entire global output of rare earth.”

“We already control the bulk of the market,” Jintai said.

“True, but you can control it all. The fire at Mountain Pass didn’t happen by accident. Mount Weld didn’t suddenly suspend operations of their own volition. It was all due to my influence.”

“You have been a valued trading partner for both minerals and American defense technology,” Tao said. “So—prices are driven up, and we ultimately profit from the sale of the minerals . . .”

“No,” Bolcke said, “you can do better than that. With full control of the market, you can force every global company that uses rare earth elements to consign their manufacturing and technology to China. Every smartphone and laptop, every wind turbine, every space satellite, will be yours. And technology’s the key. Nearly every cutting-edge technology today makes use of rare earth elements, and that will place you in a dominant position for tomorrow’s advances in consumer products and, more importantly, defense weaponry.”