Seth Lambert of the DOD had been first, bringing them up to speed on the performance capabilities of the Su-39 Covert. In less than an hour he had profiled the aircraft, its range, its armament capabilities, and the DOD's admittedly extrapolated test data. And he had concluded with what for Bogner seemed to be the real reason Schubatis had been abducted.
"Make no bones about it, this guy Schubatis has built one hell of an airplane. Whoever has it has the edge. The most disturbing part of which is, we don't have anything that compares, not even on the drawing board."
The second briefing came from the State Department's Mel Courier. It took him less than twenty minutes to detail the political situation in the Russian Commonwealth.
"Aprihinen is no sweetheart. He's got a hardon for the Americans, but he's politically savvy enough to know that without our backing and the cooperation of the World Bank, his economy is in a shambles. On the other hand, this guy Colonel General Isotov makes our boy Aprihinen look like a teddy bear. He's a hardliner, a Party loyalist, and he's the man who pushed Schubatis and Sukhoi to develop the Su-39."
"In other words," Colchin added, "Isotov is the worst kind of a son of a bitch; an ambitious son of a bitch."
"At the same time," Courier continued, "we've got what amounts to damn near a mirror image of the Russian situation in Beijing. The rightwing Kong Ho regime is in power, but there's an old man by the name of General Han Ki Po who leads a dissident faction of hard-liners known as the Fifth Academy. Kong Ho's people haven't had much success ferreting them out because they're buried deep in the bowels of the Red Army. Now comes the scary part: From time to time we get reports of a possible coalition between Han and our Russian friend. Isotov."
Finally, it was the CIA's turn. Oscar Jaffe had sent his first lieutenant, a man Bogner respected, Del Harper. Harper had already sifted through the political debris of the Saratoga explosion off the coast of Tuxpano earlier that morning.
"I spent most of the afternoon sorting through this with Jaffe, Dahmer, and Felix Masterson of our synoptic group. What I'm about to give you is what we call the most likely scenario."
Both Colchin and Spitz got up to pour themselves another cup of coffee. Bogner thought the President looked exhausted. But the fact was, Bogner wasn't feeling too well himself.
"We're beginning to see a pattern in all this, and if we're right, we've been set up. Just moments after the blast at the Royal Opera House, we received a call from a guy who identified himself as a representative of the Fifth Academy. He played a tape by a man called Tang Ro Ji. In it, Tang claimed the blast could be laid at the feet of the turmoil in the PRC. Kong Ho denies it. Key to this is the fact that the Queen had already departed. We don't think this guy Tang or whoever he's working for wants a bunch of pissed-off Brits if Tang kills their queen.
"Same thing," Harper continued, "with the Saratoga situation. Tang is on the phone taking credit for it twenty minutes after it happened. But once again, it happens after the key figure, namely Cerralvo, has departed.
"True, we've got two major disasters on our hands, but let's face it, not nearly as big as if they had killed the Queen or Cerralvo."
"As a result of all this," Spitz said, looking around the table, "as of noon today, we are redoubling our security measures on Prometheus."
Colchin smiled whenever he heard himself referred to in that fashion. Raised on a Texas ranch, and a lawyer by education, he admitted to a gap in his education about Greek mythology. Early on, he'd felt compelled to ask Spitz to explain the significance of his code name. When he heard Spitz's explanation, he'd laughed.
"You know the rest," Harper continued. "We thought we were taking more-than-adequate security measures with Schubatis's arrival todaybut it wasn't enough."
"Put a bow around it," Packer said.
"Twenty minutes after the massacre at Saint Martin's today, we got the obligatory call fromyou guessed itTang. He said it was the Fifth Academy wing of the Red Army. At the same time, we're in touch with Kong Ho's people and we're getting the standard disavowal.
Bottom line, we're buying what Kong Ho's people tell us. Why? Because what happened at Saint Martin's today is an altogether different M. O. than what happened earlier.
"At this point, we believe the most likely of three possible scenarios is that Han Ki Po and his Fifth Academy dissidents have the real Schubatis."
"And…" Spitz pressed.
"Well, he sure as hell isn't going to do them any good here in the States, so we figure along about now they're either hustling him out of the country or are about to do so."
Bogner sagged back in his chair. "Taking him out of the countrywhere?"
"Best guess, Danjia on Hainan Island. Our sources claim that's where Han Ki Po's faction hang their hat. It's the stronghold of the Red Army's Seventh Garrison… the group known as the Fifth Academy."
"Or… we could be chasing our tail," Colchin cut in.
Miller looked at Spitz. "Can we get any of this verified?"
Colchin stood up. "I'm waiting on a call from Ambassador Wilson. He has instructions to tap his sources and try to get Aprihinen to cool down long enough for us to sort through the pieces."
"So what's our next move?" Packer asked.
"We've got the airports covered," Harper said. "Every major airport with direct or connecting flights to Hong Kong, Singapore, Beijing, Shanghai, and Macao has one of our agents acting as a customs agent. If they try to smuggle Schubatis through, we're damn sure going to know about it."
Colchin looked at his watch. "It's almost one o'clock. Let's get some sleep. Leave a number where Spitz can locate you. If you haven't been contacted before then, be back here at 0800 hours."
Deng Zhen had driven to the most congested part of the Washington National short-term parking lot and selected a place between two similar-size vehicles for cover. Like Tang, he had already changed into a conservative, dark, two-piece suit, with a white shirt and tie. He put on a raincoat, then headed for the International Terminal and the Northwest ticket area to verify flight times and check the weather.
The young woman, meanwhile, began to disrobe, shedding the long, now wrinkled, offwhite cotton uniform she had been wearing in Lo Chi Lyn's office. Tang watched her, and when she had stripped to her undergarments, he reached out and touched her breast. The young woman recoiled.
"Well, Mrs. Yan," Ro Ji said, reminding her of her new name, "you've been a widow now for a couple of hours. I figure by now you must be getting pretty horny." He took a quick look at his watch. "I've had a good day. Now's your chance to reward a true hero of the people. If you do, I can put in a good word for you with Colonel Quan."
The young woman turned her back and continued to change. She was small and delicate, and Tang was tempted to press the issue. She had just slipped into a long black mourning dress when Deng Zhen opened the rear door of the van. The rain had stopped, but the wind was raw.
"They are predicting improved weather by daybreak," Deng Zhen announced. "There is no flight delay, but it is quite cold in Minneapolis; snow flurries."
The woman turned to Tang. "You approve?" she asked in Mandarin.
"Listen," he admonished, "we're not taking any chances. Go over your conspectus in English one more time. I don't want any slipups."
"My name is Yan Shi Ho," she said, tears forming. "My husband's name is Yan Yao Ping. He died of Borneo fever. We are returning to my husband's homeland in Xuzhou in Jiangsu province. Here are his papers…''
"Good," Tang said. "Other than that you are not to speak in English. If they start asking you questions, give them some shit in Mandarin. Let them do the work."