Chen was a career officer, competent and professional, but like so many in the People’s Liberation Army, he’d achieved rank as much through nepotism as by ability. His father was a general in the air force, and had Chen’s vision not been less than perfect he’d be flying fighter jets out of Hainan Island. Liu didn’t blame Chen for his birth. He himself had benefited from the accomplishments of his family in a lineage that dated back to Chairman Mao’s famous Long March. What Liu couldn’t forgive was ineptitude.
Standing ramrod straight, Chen waited for what he knew was coming, a dressing down he fully deserved. Thieves had breached his perimeter, and while their attempt to steal anything from the port had been thwarted, he was responsible for the security lapse.
Liu Yousheng blew on his fingers as if they’d been singed. “You said when you phoned my home that the thieves escaped with the aid of missile fire from outside the fence,” he began, and Captain Chen nodded. “And yet you still think they are nothing more than a rabble looking to swipe electronics from a couple of containers?”
Chen blinked, not expecting Liu’s question to come so soft-spoken. “Their weaponry indicates a certain sophistication, sir, but Panama is awash in such weapons—surplus arms from the Contras and Sandanistas on their way to FARC and ELF rebels in Colombia. Rocket-propelled grenades are as common as prostitutes here and cheaper to buy.”
Liu glanced at Sergeant Huai for confirmation. The old soldier dipped his eyes in agreement. Liu continued in a mild tone while menace was building in his expression, “So common thieves have automatic weapons and rocket grenades? Interesting. And how do common thieves know to come into this particular warehouse at this particular time?”
Chen had a ready answer. “Despite our precautions, the Panamanian dock workers all knew that something would be happening in here. Our increased security was a sure tip-off. One of them could have let it slip or could even be working with the thieves.”
“Is there any evidence that we were so betrayed?”
“No, sir.”
“Have you started an investigation?”
“As soon as the thieves made their escape, I had the harbor shut down. All employees are being questioned right now.”
“In your estimation, how much of our activities did these thieves see?”
Chen considered dodging the question but too many soldiers had been in the warehouse and he couldn’t count on them to maintain his ruse if he lied. It was not lost on him that they showed more deference to Sergeant Huai than himself, and because of COSTIND’s dual nature, Liu did hold the rank of colonel in the PLA even if he never wore his uniform. “It is possible they saw a portion of the gold, sir.”
“Close enough to see the seals stamped on it?”
“No, sir. They were on the second-floor storage area. Too far away and the angle was wrong for them to get a good look.”
Liu turned to Huai. “Is this true?”
“I was checking the perimeter fence when the firefight took place but my men agree. The gold was under cover except when one of your assistants pulled the cloth from one bar. The robbers were too far away to see the stamp.”
Turning slightly to regard the two suited men who’d been overseeing the transfer, Liu’s dark eyes silently asked the question of who looked at one of the gold ingots. Both men paled under the scrutiny and many seconds passed before one of the men pushed the other forward. “It was Ping, Mr. Liu.”
“How about it, Ping?” Liu asked affably, the menace suddenly gone from his bearing. “Did you sneak a peek at my gold?”
The young junior executive couldn’t muster enough saliva to respond. He nodded sharply, keeping his head down in supplication.
Liu laughed softly. “Don’t worry about it, Ping. In your position I’d be tempted to want to see it too. One rarely gets the chance to gaze upon forty million dollars.”
Ping looked up, a small smile forming at the corners of his mouth. That was how he saw the discreet signal flash from his boss to the commando sergeant.
Huai pulled his sidearm and fired with the weapon still at the level of his waist. The bullet hit square on Ping’s right kneecap. As he buckled, Huai fired again and the other knee shattered in a cloud of blood and bone chips. The junior executive sprawled awkwardly on the concrete, screaming at the unbelievable agony until his body overwhelmed his brain’s ability to deal with the pain and he lapsed into unconsciousness.
Liu gave the other executive a speculative look, and was satisfied that he’d made his point when a wet stain bloomed at the man’s groin.
“Lest you forget that this is a military operation and I will not tolerate mistakes, let Ping’s punishment be a reminder.” Liu’s voice encompassed all those assembled. “We aren’t in Hong Kong or Shanghai. We are in a country that until a few years ago was America’s puppet. Because the Panamanians have only recently gained their freedom from the United States’ imperialism, they are wary of any outsider, especially us. Panama is a Catholic country whose citizens see communism as an affront to their God. Our investments in Panama’s infrastructure are welcome. We are not.
“I have designed Operation Red Island to keep our actual involvement to a minimum for this very reason. One slip, one whispered rumor about what is happening and the people will take to the streets. It’s something they love to do. Omar Quintero is this country’s most unpopular president since Noriega. Until he can better consolidate his power base it won’t take much to push this country into chaos. Captain Chen?”
Chen stepped forward. “Sir.”
“You see what happened to a man who took an unauthorized look at the gold. I want even worse to happen to the thieves.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Sergeant Huai, what about the American from Paris who turned up at Gary Barber’s river camp? Mercer?”
“We lost him after he left the restaurant last night because those drunken tourists rammed our car, but he was spotted at the airport late this morning boarding a flight to Miami. If you still want the journal he bought we will have to dispatch a team to the States.”
Liu considered the proposal. “That won’t be necessary. We have enough old manuscripts to legitimize our discovery if someone ever wonders how we found the treasure. The one he bought is of no consequence.” Hatcherly’s director in Panama moved back toward his car. “Just in case Captain Chen fails to find our thieves, I want the gold out of this warehouse immediately and everything else cleared within forty-eight hours.”
Chen opened his mouth to voice an opinion but Liu cut him off. “I’m well aware of our transport guidelines. What can’t be removed from this building in two days should be stored in another location at the terminal until you can get it out. Don’t violate the guidelines but don’t leave anything in here either.”
“Yes, sir.”
Settled in the back of the Mercedes, Liu Yousheng dug around the mini-bar until he found a container of antacid liquid. He took three heavy swallows, wincing as his stomach gave one more volcanic heave. Thirty-eight was too young for an ulcer, he thought. But thirty-eight was also too young for this kind of responsibility. As he liked to do when the pain was bad, he mentally drew out the flowchart of power within Hatcherly. He enjoyed reviewing the incremental steps he’d climbed. The only people ahead of him now were the president of the entire HatchCo conglomerate, Deng Hui. Then came General Yu, the man who controlled all of COSTIND. Yu’s only superior was the defense minister in Beijing, and at the top of the pyramid was China’s president. Liu had already climbed twenty positions and had only four more to go. If he pulled off Red Island, he was assured the presidency of Hatcherly Consolidated. They’d have to make him a secret general for that, moving him that much closer to the chairmanship of the Commission on Science, Technology and Industry for National Defense. He estimated that it would take only two years to move up from COSTIND to the defense ministry.