"And the Chairman's health?" Tang Ro Ji asked.
"It continues to deteriorate. But it does not deteriorate rapidly enough. I am concerned that he will continue his conciliatory overtures to the Kong Ho regime."
"Then he must be stopped," Tang said, "before it is too late."
"And that is exactly why I have sent for you, my young comrade. It is time."
Tang Ro Ji knew what Quan was referring to: the plans to assassinate the Fifth Academy elder. "When?" he asked.
"Unfortunately, your reputation precedes you. At least two members of the Chairman's group inquired about you today. One, Hong Dung Lei, was even so bold as to openly discuss your involvement in the Tuxpano incident in Mexico."
Tang Ro Ji stood up. "Do you have any instructions?"
Quan shook his head. "The signs are right. It must appear that the Chairman died of natural causes. You must find a way to enter and leave Huangliu without being recognized."
"That will not be easy," Tang Ro Ji noted.
"And that is why I have given you the task, Comrade."
Following his meeting with Quan, Tang Ro Ji returned to his quarters in Quonset H to prepare for his assignment. Quan's insistence that Han Ki Po's death appear natural would make his task more difficult.
Han Ki Po's compound was located on the outskirts of Huangliu, high on a cliff overlooking Chuwan Bay. The Chairman, Tang knew, often insisted on being taken for garden walks before he retired to his quarters for the day. It was well publicized that Han meditated and prayed the final hour before he went to bed. Tang Ro Ji suspected that this would be the ideal time. It was said that the Chairman looked forward to the solitude of that hourand insisted that the only one to accompany him be the young aide who assisted him with his wheelchair. Under those circumstances, there would be more than enough opportunity to do what had to be done.
The only question now was how he would get into and out of the Chairman's compound without being recognized.
Because he had cut his hair before leaving Washington, his appearance was already altered. All that remained was to select clothing that would enable him to blend in with the other tourists in the port city. He discarded his uniform, dressed, donned glasses, and looked in the mirror. Tang Ro Ji smiled, confident that only his closest friends would recognize him.
When he crossed the courtyard to the Danjia motor pool he looked like one of the workers from the village. No one paid attention to him. It was as if he did not exist. Tang Ro Ji considered that a good omen.
It was one of the inconsistencies of the Han Ki Po regime on Hainan that permitted Le Win Fo access to the Danjia installation. Because he wore the garb of a priest, it was assumed that he was a priest. The fact that in earlier years he had come to Danjia accompanied by Father Hua only gave credence to that assumption.
As always, when he was making his weekly visit to the installation, Le Win Fo took the crowded people's bus from the crossroad outside of Zebo to the village of Chupin near the mouth of the Hunpo River less than a mile from the main gate. Most of the guards knew him, and it was customary for him to pass through without producing his credentials.
As was also his custom, he left a basket of vegetables at the gate for the guards and walked up the Yingze Road to visit the patients at the hospital. From there he took the base tram to the detention block, a series of long, narrow cinder-block buildings that housed everything from soldiers being reprimanded to peasants caught stealing inside the compound. That portion of his visit always began with a brief and cordial exchange with Lieutenant Yew of Danjia security.
Yew, unlike many of the more passionate young Red Army officers Le Win Fo had encountered over the years, was given to both philosophical and theological discussion, and appeared to enjoy Le Win Fo's visits.
''Good day, Comrade," Le said as he entered Yew's cluttered, cell-like office. It was exceedingly hot in the small cubicle, and Yew's small oscillating fan was not up to the challenge. It barely rustled the papers on his desk.
Yew stood to greet him, his smile sincere. He motioned for Le Win Fo to have a seat. "The heat does not deter you, Father?"
"I know a hotter place," Le quipped, and both men laughed.
"Perhaps you should have worked harder on this one," Yew said, sliding a file folder across his cluttered desk in Win Fo's direction. "We caught him stealing supplies out of our commissary."
"Perhaps he was hungry," Le Win Fo offered.
Yew laughed. "If he had not been stealing ammunition, I might have considered that a reasonable defense."
Le smiled. "You alluded to the fact that he was one of ours. Do you mean from Zebo?"
Yew nodded. "According to his papers, he comes from your village. And, since he speaks very good English for a peasant, I can only assume he received his tutoring from your school."
"He could have learned English in one of the People's Schools," Le Win Fo said, laughing. "Surely you do not think that our teaching methods are superior to those of the Party, do you?"
The Lieutenant saw the humor in Le's reply. "Someday" he shook his head" you will see that our way is the only way. Then, and only then, will you understand true enlightenment."
"But until then, I must continue along my uninformed path, doing what I know to do, and praying for that day of ultimate enlightenment."
Yew continued to smile. "Ahhat last, a sign of hope. I will again make my offer… this small book, the writings of Chairman Mao. It is only fair that you should read it. After all, I have read your Bible."
Le Win Fo stood up. He shook the young officer's hand. "I must be cautious. I enjoy our conversations too much. I must not allow these pleasurable exchanges with you to deter me from my real reason for being here." Then, at the door, he turned back to Yew. "By the way, are there any other incorrigibles I should know about?"
Yew laughed again. "You may wish to tell the Occidental that he would be wise to comply with the wishes of Colonel Quan."
"Occidental?" Win Fo repeated.
"Russian," Yew confirmed.
"Unfortunately, I do not speak Russian," Le Win Fo said.
"Use English. I understand he speaks passable English," Yew said. "Then again, you may not wish to spend any time on this one. I cannot vouch for whether or not he is a sinner. I can only vouch for the fact that he is disagreeable."
"And where will I find him?"
Yew glanced at his papers. "The east cell block, building three, number eight."
Le Win Fo was more than passing familiar with the east cell block. While still a young man, during a weekly visit with Father Hua, he had discovered a distant cousin incarcerated in the compound. Younger than Le, the youth had been severely beaten for, as he was informed, "conduct detrimental to the Party of the people." Le Win Fo was never able to learn what the charge meant, because when he returned the next day to visit the young man, he was told that his cousin had died.
Since that time there had been others, and Le Win Fo now knew why the east cell block was referred to as Quan's Gehenna. There was a crude cemetery in the courtyard just outside the cell block, and if a prisoner was one of the few fortunate enough to have a cell with a window, he looked out over the neglected burial ground.
At the heavy wooden exterior door that opened onto the stone corridor to the cells, he encountered a young PRC soldier standing guard. The youth's face was pockmarked and covered with a thin sheen of sweat. He lounged against a section of the stone wall couched in shadows, seeking refuge from the heat. He asked Le Win Fo for a cigarette and passed him through.