I have to tell her.
9
North of the Southern California Offshore Range, a ship sat at rest for the first time in twenty-two days, eight hours, and thirty-seven minutes. That was how long it had taken the Merchant Vessel Yonggan De to transit from Qingdao Port in China’s Shandong Province to the coast of California. Smaller compared to many of the larger New Panamax vessels sitting at anchor on either side of her, the Yonggan De still carried close to five thousand twenty-foot equivalent units’ worth of cargo bound for the American consumer.
As the largest exporter of consumer goods to the United States, China accounted for almost twenty percent, totaling over $430 billion. The Yonggan De had crossed the Pacific carrying electrical machinery, oilseeds and oleaginous fruits, mineral fuels, and medical instruments. But it was the cargo not listed on the manifest, the cargo stevedores wouldn’t offload, that was the real reason for her long passage across the ocean.
Twenty-two days, eight hours, and thirty-seven minutes, Xi Jian thought.
He zipped up the canvas duffel that sat at the foot of his bed, then turned to the stark metal desk built into the small stateroom’s bulkhead. The Toughbook laptop computer he had removed from the container sat open with a progress bar showing how much more data needed to be copied over to the memory card before he could throw the computer overboard. Then he could get off this godforsaken ship and back onto dry land where he belonged.
…99…100.
Without so much as a smile, Xi Jian removed the memory card and tucked it into the front pocket of his black jeans, knowing Mantis would want the information it contained. The jeans were slim fitting but had a stretch that made them ideal for navigating the crowded cargo deck. He wore a dark gray turtleneck underneath a hip-length black overcoat to help curb the damp ocean air. Scooping up the plain, black wool watch cap, he pulled it down over his head before closing the Toughbook and turning back to his bag.
He slung it over his shoulder and, with laptop in hand, left the stateroom that had felt like a prison cell. Twenty-two days, eight hours, and…
“The dinghy is almost here,” the voice said, startling him from his thoughts.
Xi Jian looked up into Wu Tian’s blank face. The slender chief mate was one of only three people on the Yonggan De who knew of his mission.
“Very well,” he replied. “And we are on schedule?”
Wu Tian nodded but still gestured to the ladder in a not-so-subtle hint he would feel better once Xi Jian had left the larger Panamax merchant vessel for the inflatable dinghy on its way to retrieve him.
“And the transponder?”
“Back on,” he replied. “Once the Navy ship turned back, we activated it to blend in with the rest of the commercial traffic.”
Xi Jian nodded. The mission had looked to be a success at first, but then it all went to shit. The jet hadn’t crashed into the guided-missile cruiser like it was supposed to, but thankfully, the memory card in his pocket contained the data Mantis would need to refine the waveforms. He had failed but knew it was the cost of doing business with an untested weapon.
At least I don’t have to make the transit back, he thought as he turned for the ladder leading up to the main deck. He heard the chief mate’s heavy boots on the treads behind him, but his thoughts were already on deep-sixing the Toughbook and making his way aft to the boarding ladder they had set up to prepare for his debarkation.
At the top of the stairs, he rotated a lever to open the watertight door, then stepped out onto the weather deck. He walked across the narrow walkway on the starboard side of the ship to the cream-colored and rusted steel railing and looked out over the edge into the darkness below. He could barely see the murky water, but he hoped it would be deep enough to do the job.
“It’ll do,” Wu Tian said, reading his thoughts.
Xi Jian looked to his left toward the bow of the ship and the lights twinkling on the coast. “How deep?”
The chief mate shrugged. “Ninety feet or so. We’re in one of the deeper anchorages about five miles south of the port.”
Xi Jian looked up and down the vacant deck of the ship, then flung the Toughbook computer over the side and watched it tumble through the air before crashing into the water with a quiet splash. He watched it disappear, then turned right and started walking aft to the rope ladder and his parole.
Wu Tian followed on his heels, keeping a watchful eye on him until he could verify he was off the ship and they had removed all evidence of contraband. Xi Jian heard his heavy footfalls behind him but was too busy thinking about a hot shower and soft pillow-top bed to pay him any mind. But when he heard the radio squawking at the man’s waist, he stopped dead in his tracks.
Did he say Coast Guard?
Wu Tian’s wide-eyed expression amplified his command. “Go!”
Xi Jian looked into the darkness beyond the railing for the approaching dinghy. He had hoped that reactivating their transponder after the Navy ship turned away would eliminate them from suspicion. But the radio call from the bridge dashed that hope to pieces.
“Go,” he said again.
“The container…”
Wu Tian waved away the comment. “I’ll take care of it.” Then, bringing the radio to his mouth, he said, “I’m on my way. Respond that we are ready to receive them.”
Xi Jian hesitated.
“Go!”
He watched the chief mate turn for the bridge, then sprinted aft for the boarding ladder. He needed to be off the boat before Coast Guard Cutter Forrest Rednour pulled alongside to board them.
Or before Wu Tian sanitized the container.
A few minutes later, he descended from the rope ladder’s bottom rung onto the bobbing bow of the Rigid-Hull Inflatable Boat. He had barely steadied himself when the driver put the transmission in reverse and lurched away from the merchant vessel, bringing him to his knees.
“Sit down!” the voice hissed.
He scrambled off the front step plate and scurried around the center console to the aft seat, collapsing against the backrest as the one-hundred-horsepower Honda outboard propelled the small boat forward.
They were running without navigation lights, and the driver steered them clear of the dim halo of illumination surrounding the merchant vessel. If they could remain invisible from the Coast Guard, they might make it to shore none the worse for wear. But if somebody spotted them without their navigation lights…
“Was it a success?” she asked, craning her neck to look over her shoulder at him.
The faint red glow from the instrument cluster lit up half her face, and Xi Jian could tell she was beautiful. The Ministry had increased its use of women in the field over the half century following Katrina Leung’s infiltration of the American Federal Bureau of Investigation. But at least he didn’t have to spread his legs to complete his tasks.
His eyes wandered from her face, down to the body she had tried hiding underneath a wool peacoat. But even its bulk wasn’t enough to disguise her shapely figure, and his eyes traced further down to her ass. His face cracked into a smile.
She stood the throttle up, and the motor behind him fell silent. “I asked you a question!”
He shot his eyes back to her face, saw it contorted with anger, and shook away his thoughts. “N-n-no,” he stammered.