"Bring me the file on Einstein and his theory again."
Nodding his acceptance, Tao walked from the office.
Less than forty-eight hours after being released from a cell in Beijing's Zhoutz Prison, Hu Jimn crept toward the library in Princeton, New Jersey. The university was on midsemester break and the campus was nearly deserted. Jimn had trouble finding a spot to park his rental car where it would not be too noticeable. Finally, a little less than a block away, he found a lot that was not completely empty. Shutting off the car he had locked the doors, then made his way slowly toward the thick foliage. He watched to see if he was being observed.
Once he was sure he had not been seen, he raised himself from the bushes. Snipping the wires on the window to the burglar alarm, Jimn raised the glass and climbed inside. The library was closed for the week of spring break and the air conditioning was off. Superheated air, warmed by the fall sun beating on the roof and tainted by the smell of old papers and musty books, surrounded Jimn like a dusty veil. A thin trickle of sweat started on the back of his neck and ran down his back. His forehead was soon dotted with perspiration.
During a brief planning session Jimn had attended immediately after his release, an agent from SPD had told him their intelligence source in New Jersey had indicated he should try to enter the library at the shift change of the security guards — six in the evening. The guards who normally patrolled the grounds would be in their offices handing over keys and finishing their reports.
The source had been right — Jimn had yet to see a guard.
Standing on the first floor of the library, Jimn scanned a sheet of paper that listed the library's contents. Hacked from the main Princeton computer by experts in China, and converted from English to Chinese to make it easier for Jimn to read, it listed Einstein's diaries as being in a special uncirculating collection. The diaries had only recently been declassified by the Atomic Energy Commission and donated to Princeton. They were still awaiting transcription and were being stored in the Special Collections Department, on the top floor.
Bounding up the stairs, Jimn reached the top and scanned the thick wooden door, which was secured with a hefty padlock. Removing a cloth pouch from his pocket, he unrolled a thin diamond-coated wire and sawed through the clasp of the lock. Once he was finished he twisted the lock and tossed it onto the ground.
As luck would have it, the metal boxes containing the Einstein documents were clearly marked, stacked together in the far corner of the room on a wooden table, and unlocked. Jimn immediately began searching through the safety-deposit-sized boxes like a man possessed. Tossing each box not containing the diaries into a pile in the corner of the floor, he attacked the next in line.
He quickly realized the search would take longer than he had planned. Two hours of searching passed, and the sun set, leaving the library in darkness. Jimn, who by now was reading with a penlight clenched in his teeth, finally located the first of the diaries. Following a quick review of the remaining inventory, he hoisted the two boxes that contained Einstein's diaries, one under each arm. It was half-past-eight in the evening.
Lugging the pair of boxes downstairs, he was walking toward the window to exit the library when he was startled by a voice from outside.
"Stop. Hold it right there," a security guard said from outside the open window. The guard was young, barely twenty years old, and he had taken the job to help with his tuition bills at a local community college. Several minutes before, while driving past in his cruiser on his way to buy his older partner a bag of donuts, the young guard had noticed the library window partially open.
In the beam of his spotlight he caught a glimpse of the severed alarm wires. He climbed from the cruiser and fingered the wires in his hand. He was just about to radio the main office to ask for backup when Jimn approached from inside. After issuing his warning the guard fumbled with the flashlight in his hand, securing it in his back pocket. Then he reached for his weapon in a holster on his belt.
He was several seconds too slow.
At the sound of the guard's voice Jimn dropped the boxes containing Einstein's diaries to the floor, then reached into the shoulder holster under his jacket. With a fluid motion he withdrew a .38 caliber Beretta. Before the guard could react, Jimn fired one round, hitting him in the head.
The guard hit the ground in a heap.
Tossing the boxes of diaries through the window, Jimn climbed through the opening. He had to step over the body of the guard, a pool of his blood now staining the dirt, in order to pick up the boxes.
Soon he was back in his rental car, miles from the university, racing north to Newark. Midnight Eastern Time in the United States was one in the afternoon in China. The prime minister sat in his office, sipping a cup of green tea.
Placing the cup back atop the saucer, he looked up as Tao entered the office. "What do you have to report?"
"Jimn reported in. He managed to steal the diaries— but he shot one of the Princeton guards in the effort," Tao said.
"Where are the diaries now?"
"Jimn scramble-faxed them several hours ago. Since that time a team of physicists has been reading them. One of the scientists found something that makes him believe the key to the theory is aboard Einstein's sailboat. A coded reference mentions leaving a package of great world importance. 'The package that holds the key to the force is in the Windforce,' he wrote," Tao noted. "The scientist is an Einstein buff — he claims that was the name of Einstein's sailboat."
"Interesting. Do we know where Einstein's sailboat is now?" the prime minister logically asked.
"Our computer expert inside the United States found records that indicate the vessel disappeared off the east coast of the United States in 1965. The vessel was due at a scrapyard in Providence, Rhode Island, but never arrived."
The prime minister lit a Panda cigarette and blew a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling.
"First call the embassy in New York and ask them to hire a marine salvage firm that cannot be traced back to us. We must find and recover Einstein's boat," the prime minister said. "After that, get rid of Jimn. Shooting that guard could bring us unwanted attention. He is no longer of any use to us."
"What of Jimn's family?" Tao asked. "They can go free," the prime minister said as he rose from the table. "That was the deal we made."
The day after he had stolen the diaries, and less than twenty-four hours after the Chinese prime minister had ordered his death, Jimn sat on the bed in his room at the Newark Motor Lodge. His life was in terrible disarray. After being released from prison he had been ordered aboard the plane that flew him to New York before he had a chance to see his family.
Jimn feared his family would never be released from jail.
His motel room was old and badly in need of remodeling. The Formica on the dresser was chipped, the paint on the walls stained and spotted. The carpeting on the floor was threadbare, the single vinyl chair near the wobbly table torn. A strange smell of stale liquor, cigarette smoke, and fear permeated the room.
Jimn stared bleakly at the television. The picture tube was ancient, the colors bleeding into one another. The noon news anchor, her hair a mysterious shade of orange, was reporting the shooting of the security guard at Princeton University. Averting his eyes to avoid watching the guard being removed from the scene, Jimn noticed a peculiar dark stain on the ceiling. Why was I ordered to stay in such a dump, he thought to himself?
He rubbed his eyes with his fingers.
Jimn was depressed — both by his surroundings and the news broadcast. The last thing he had wanted was to kill someone in the United States. Not that killing was abhorrent to him, he had participated in his share of torture and executions, but he knew that his superiors would see the shooting as another failure by him.