Hong Kong (43 page)

Jake Grafton looked at his watch. "You ready?" he asked Tommy Carmellini.

"Yes, sir. Let's do it."

They stowed the weapons, ammo, and night-vision goggles in a drawstring bag, which they slung over their shoulders.

"When does the war start?" Jake asked Cole.

"In about two hours," Tiger replied, "unless the PLA kicks off the ball sooner."

"We'll be back by then," Jake muttered.

"Or dead," Carmellini added.

"You still got a handle on the electrical grid?"

"Yep."

"How about killing all power to that pier, or that area, in twenty minutes?"

"Sure. Hang tough, shipmate." Cole shook both their hands, then went back into the museum exhibit trailer.

"You scared?" Carmellini asked Jake as they walked to the helicopter, which was sitting in the street with the engine off.

"Hell, yes, I'm scared," Jake shot back. "That's a fool question. Why'd you ask it?"

"I wanted to make sure I wasn't the only one."

The helo pilot made sure both men were strapped in, then he pushed the starter, and the Bell's engine wound up with a whine.

Jake lied to Carmellini; he wasn't scared. He had been too busy worrying about Callie to be scared.

"Rip, Mother isn't here."

Rip Buckingham looked up from his PC. He was doing an in-depth piece on the revolution for the Buckingham Sunday editions.

"The maid said she left this morning and hasn't come back," Sue Lin said.

"Maybe she's at the cookie company."

"I called there. No one answers."

"Well..."

"Rip! She could be killed out there. If the government finds out she is Wu's mother, they'll throw her in prison. She'd die there.
Rip!"

"For God's sake, Sue Lin, she's a grown woman, this is her town. She can take care of herself."

"But she can't!" Sue Lin sagged into a sitting position and began weeping. First her brother, now her mother. She was trying to be brave, but she just couldn't.

Rip cradled her head in his hands. "Sue Lin, your mother wanted to help. She wanted to be a part of what was happening."

"Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you say no?"

"What right did I have to tell her no? She's Chinese—this is her country. These are her people."

"I'm your
wife."
She struck his hands away.

"Indeed. And it's time you realized that the future of China is more important than we are."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean it's time you realized that your happiness is not the most important thing in your mother's or brother's life."

"Is it the most important thing in your life, Rip? Answer me that."

"Don't ask me a foolish question, woman. You may not like the answer."

She rose from the floor and walked to the window. With her back to Rip she said, "You had no right to let her go without telling me."

"You would have said no. She wanted to go. What would you have me do?"

"If you love me, you will find my mother and bring her home."

He turned off the computer and stood. "You don't understand what love is. You think it is possessive, and it isn't. Sometimes you have to let go of the things you love the most."

He took a few steps toward her, then changed his mind. "I will try to find Lin Pe and help her do the job she volunteered to do. When it's over, if we're alive I'll bring her here."

Sue Lin didn't turn around.

He walked from the room and headed for the stairs.

This, Governor Sun Siu Ki thought, was without a doubt the worst afternoon of his life. His friends in Beijing had shouted, sworn, second-guessed, cajoled, and threatened him. He had been accused of being a dupe, a fool, a liar, and an incompetent imbecile. He tried to explain that the afternoon debacle was the fault of General Tang, now dead, and General Moon Hok, now a prisoner, but to no avail. The truth was that if those two soldiers had obeyed his orders to vigorously enforce the law and lay the wood to the outlaws, these riots would not have gotten out of control. They were afraid to use the military power the nation gave them. They were cowards.

Then the television showed the mob beating government officials to death. If that wasn't bad enough, the ministry in Beijing said that treasonous criminal spectacle had been seen by a large percentage of the urban population of China. It had even run on a television station in Beijing, the outraged minister told him, as if the failure of the media officials was Sun's fault.

So when his aide passed him a note saying Sonny Wong was on the phone, Sun Siu Ki was in a savage mood.

"Carrion-eater. Double-crosser. Traitor." He used all three of these phrases on Sonny when he picked up the telephone.

"Whoa, Governor. I know you're having a bad day, but there is a way out. I've told you that. I couldn't single-handedly stop these criminal combinations, but I can save the day."

"For money?"

"Of course, for money. I have a large organization that I support at my own expense, and we have done what the government could not— we have penetrated the rebel organization. Pay me the money and I will give you their heads."

"Beijing has not authorized the payment," Sun protested.

"I find their attitude beyond understanding. They are faced with a genuine rebellion that is getting worldwide press and inciting treason throughout China. The rebels are waging cyberwar against the nation. Government officals are being beaten to death by mobs, a spectacle played on every television on the planet"—this was only a small exaggeration—"and the government dithers over whether or not to pay me one hundred million American dollars to put a stop to all this. What are you people thinking?"

"Beijing has faith in the PLA," Sun explained. "Beijing is a long

way from Hong Kong; from there they see the backs of ten million soldiers. Ten million soldiers are ten million soldiers. These traitors are causing huge problems, of course, but no ragtag mob is going to crush the PLA."

"You saw the robots on television today. Those robots are not a

ragtag mob."

"Beijing was not impressed. You cannot extort money from them with movie props."

"Sun, you are as stupid as a snail. Wait until tonight. Tonight the robots will be in action. Tonight is the Battle of Hong Kong. When the PLA is losing, think of me. You know the telephone number."
And
Sonny hung up.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Callie Grafton awoke with a start. She had been dozing, lost in despair, and suddenly she
{new.
The knowledge brought her wide awake. She sat up in her bunk.

"He's coming for me," she said to Wu, who was also awake. She said it first in English, then had to translate.

"Who is?" Wu asked.

"My husband. He is coming. I know it."

Wu didn't believe her, of course, but he had grown to like this strange American woman and her delicious accent.

"Us. He's coming for us." The faux pas of excluding Wu occurred to her now, and automatically she spoke again, correcting her error.

"How do you know he is coming?"

"I just know." She searched for words. "I can feel it. I can feel his presence, the fact that he is thinking of me, the fact that he is coming."

"Soon?"

"I do not know."

"Tell me of your husband," Wu said, to humor her.

Callie looked at him sharply. "You don't believe me and I don't expect you to, because I wouldn't if I were you. But Jake is coming. Perhaps I know it because I know the man."

She wrapped her arms around her legs. "All this time I have been worried because I didn't have an escape plan. Ha! I've got Jake Grafton."

"The knight in shining armor," Wu said.

"Laugh if you like. He'll come."

She was still sitting like that when they heard someone outside the door, then a key in the lock. Two men entered with weapons drawn.

"Come with us, Wu. Time to do some more work on your confession."

They handcuffed his hands behind him and took him away.

Two minutes later the key turned again.

The Russian, Yuri Daniel, stood in the open doorway looking at her. "You too, Mrs. Grafton. Your statement is ready to sign."

"I gave no statement."

"That wasn't a problem. I wrote it for you. Come."

Since he knew where he was going this time, the helicopter pilot kept the Bell JetRanger low, just above the water. He weaved around several junks and a fishing boat, then flew parallel to the coast for several miles. When he was on the extended centerline of the pier that held the
China Rose
and
Barbary Coast,
he turned for it.

"Wind's out of the north, a bit east," the pilot told Jake. "I'll land into the wind on the helo pad on the
Coast."

"Yeah."

"Guns in or out?" Carmellini wanted to know.

"In the bags, I think. Don't want to scare 'em to death. But be ready, just in case."

The pilot kept the chopper so low that he actually had to climb to land on the
Barbary Coast.
A night landing on a tiny platform on a small ship, even one tied to a pier, was certainly not routine. The pilot's expertise was obvious.

As the helicopter settled onto its skids, Jake was looking across the pier at the
China Rose.
A few lights were on: on the bridge, over the gangway, and in a few of the portholes. The main salon aft was dark.

Safely on deck, the helicopter pilot shut down his engine. Jake and Carmellini got out, bags in hand.

Just in time to meet a man coming out the hatch from the bridge. He was about Jake's age, tan and graying.

"My name is Jake Grafton. Virgil Cole said you wouldn't mind if we landed on your boat."

When he heard Cole's name, the man extended his hand. "Name's Schoenauer. How long you going to be with us, Mr. Grafton?"

"Not long, I hope. Let's get off this weather deck and I'll explain."

Nikko Schoenauer led them to the bridge. He poured them coffee while Jake talked. Carmellini went straight to the pierside corner of the bridge and stood looking at
China Rose
through binoculars.

"Sonny Wong is rather a nefarious character, but this is the first time I've heard he indulged in kidnapping."

"I heard him ask for the ransom, so there is no doubt he's in it."

"I believe you, Mr. Grafton."

"It's Admiral Grafton," Carmellini said without turning around. "I'm just the civilian help."

Jake reached into his bag for the silenced submachine gun. "We're going over to get my wife back, if she's there. If it goes well, we'll return and ride the chopper off the pier. If it doesn't, friend Wong may pay you a visit."

"Hmm," Schoenauer said, looking at the submachine gun.

"If you have any weapons aboard, you might want to dig them out."

"Well, we do keep some old AKs, just in case we run into pirates. Pay off customs with a few bucks and they let us by. They know me, of course."

"Say, would you have any Vaseline and shoe polish around? Black shoe polish."

"I buy Vaseline by the quart. Shoe polish is another thing entirely— these days everyone wears tennis shoes—but I'll check."

While Schoenauer was gone the lights went out on
Barbary Coast, China Rose,
and the pier. In fact, the lights went off all along the waterfront.

Jake and Tommy got out their night-vision goggles and studied the
Rose.
"They had an electric eye rigged at the top of the gangway. Probably have a pressure pad too, so an alarm rings somewhere when you step on it. They're off until someone starts a generator."

"How many guys do you think?"

"I saw two before the lights went out. One was on the bridge. One walked along the main deck."

"I'd bet my pension there're more than two."

"Probably closer to twenty."

"Can we get aboard without using the gangway?"

"How about that stern mooring rope? It's in shadow. That'll be about it from the pier."

"Okay."

"I got this creepy feeling," Carmellini said, "that those sons of bitches know we're coming."

"Maybe. Just shoot first and it won't matter."

Schoenauer returned with two women. Jake couldn't tell much about them in the dark, but they were definitely Americans. He also had Vaseline and shoe polish. Jake smeared Vaseline over his face, neck, and hands, then applied the black shoe polish.

"Jake Grafton," one woman said as he smeared away. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Virgil told me about you. He said you were his very best friend on this earth."

Jake didn't know quite how to respond to that. "I'm sure he was just being polite."

"Oh, he didn't mean that he was your best friend, but that you were his, if that makes sense. He said you saved his life once."