Two Peasants and a President (37 page)

“Commander Moore, our man at the Hong Kong consulate, spoke with the captain and listened to a very convincing recording.  It was his feeling that there was some truth to the allegations.  Then he learned that the ca
p
tain’s daughter in the States had been contacted by a Chinese dissident group claiming that foreigners were being kidnapped in order to sell their organs to certain wealthy Caucasians who are reticent to have the organs of another race in their bodies, and in particular the organs of executed Chinese criminals.  Apparently they are willing to pay large sums with few questions asked.”

“I’m still missing the part about how the Chinese navy got involved in this,” interrupted the president. 

“It seems that the operations weren’t being performed in some back street in Hong Kong or Shanghai, but in the most prestigious transplant ho
s
pital in China.  If you’re going to part with a quarter million for a new kidney, you don’t want some third string doctor doing the operation in an alley.  All they had to do was keep the victims under wraps until it was time to harvest their organs just prior to transplantation.  Once they were no longer inside the unwilling donors’ bodies, the organs’ origins became, for all extents and purposes, untraceable.”

“Apparently there were several highly placed police officials and m
u
nicipal bureaucrats in Tianjin as well as Hong Kong whose palms were being greased.  There may have been others in Beijing, but that’s conjecture at this point.  When the whole thing came unglued and the authorities discovered that the captain, with the help of a dissident group in Tianjin, had rescued his family and were at large, they panicked.  Thinking that they could make it all go away if they could somehow keep him and his family from leaving the country, they pulled out all the stops.”  

“But at that point they didn’t have the faintest idea where the captain and his family were or how they were planning to leave the county.  By the time they figured out that a former naval captain might logically turn to the sea for his escape, the fugitives were already on their way to South Korea.  To put it in perspective, the harbor in Tianjin alone is more than nineteen miles long and has hundreds of piers and wharfs, plus there are several smaller harbors in the area.  With thousands of ships and fishing boats of every size
and with dozens moving in and out every hour, it was a gargantuan task.”

“To complicate things, they couldn’t be entirely certain that that the escape had been by sea.  They were still checking train and bus stations as well as airports and roads.  Because they
were dealing with a man who kno
w
s
the sea and had commanded a warship, they eventually surmised that he would take the way he knew best.  Even assuming they were right, there was no way to know if the fugitives had stowed away on a freighter, tanker, someone’s pleasure boat, a large factory fishing ship, or a tiny one family wooden fishing boat.  Since hundreds of ships of all sizes had left port in the past day and a half, they reacted in the way the Chinese government invari
a
bly reacts to any problem
–
with all available power and little concern for anything or anyone else.”

By the time the DCI had finished, the president’s head was buried in his hands.  One of his aircraft carrier battle groups had nearly gone to war with a nation whose vice-president was about to pay a visit.  As he sat trying to figure out how he could salvage a meeting that had the potential to turn into an unmitigated international disaster, it occurred to him that there might be a way. 

Those around him watched in curious but quiet fascination as the creases in his forehead and the knitted brows slowly dissolved, the tension gradually draining downward where it began to pool in a smile.  While he wouldn’t share his thoughts with everyone in the room, at least not at this point, he saw an unexpected gift taking shape before his eyes.  He was now in possession of information that his soon to be guest had nearly started a war to keep secret.  If it were divulged, it would cause incalculable loss of face for China.  On the other hand, if the day’s events could continue to remain secret, the future president of China would be greatly in his debt. 

The day was definitely looking up.  Or so he thought.

******

“It’s for you,
Virg
,” said Molly. 

“Yes, hi Sally.  Oh that’s wonderful!  I’m so happy to hear it.  OK, well why don’t you give me his cell number and I’ll call him on the carrier and he can fill me in.” 

5
6

Mortimer
Thurgood
, US State Department attaché in Tokyo, was on hand when the George Washington docked at
Yokosuka
Naval Base a few miles from the capitol.  In spite of his official status, like everyone else, he was forced to wait for the time-honored custom of allowing fathers who had not yet seen their newborns to disembark first.  He had never experienced the welcoming party for an aircraft carrier before and was amazed to see tho
u
sands of people, mostly women and children, crowding the pier in growing excitement as the enormous ship was slowing nudged into its berth
by po
w
erful tugboats
. 

Moving up the gangplank against the downward flow of more than six thousand sailors, he was nearly knocked into the oily harbor waters several times by the large canvas bags
(sea bags)
slung over their shoulders.  Reaching the deck at last, he approached the officer whose job it is to screen those seeking access to the carrier.  Mortimer dutifully showed the officer his credentials and the official letter announcing the request by the State D
e
partment that the Chinese refugees remain on board until more senior officials arrived from Washington.

“Sorry, Sir,” the officer said, “I’m not familiar with any refugees.”  After obtaining a visitors plaque for the State Department representative to wear around his neck, he was escorted
to the quarter deck where the Officer of the D
eck is usually stationed while in port.  Mortimer
Thurgood
soon learned what every sailor who has ever been assigned to a carrier learned the hard way, a United States aircraft carrier is a very, very large ship.  By the time he reached the quarter deck, a sign on officer’s door indicated that he was still on the bridge.  By the time, some twenty minutes later, he was able to speak to him, he was told that the refugees had been shuttled off the ship on a Gre
y
hound.  Inquiring what exactly was a Greyhound, he learned that the Navy routinely flies cargo and passengers aboard the Grumman C-2 Greyhound, a propeller driven plane capable of carrying 10,000 lbs or 26 people
,
that ro
u
tinely
shuttles
to and from aircraft carriers around the world. 

The dance had begun. 

******

“I have never heard a more fascinating or troubling story, Captain,” said Vice-Admiral
Michitaro
Yamagato
, “it seems our Chinese friends b
e
come more emboldened by the day.”  Vice Admiral
Yamagato
and Captain Davis had twice met during naval conferences, and after events in the Gulf, he had become a fan of the courageous American captain.

As with
several other nations
, a number of disturbing events had r
e
cently plagued Japan’s relationship with its larger neighbor.  China appa
r
ently felt that its ever-increasing domain now included Japan’s coastal waters, and its fishing fleet had become particularly aggressive, including a collision with a Japanese naval vessel that resulted in the arrest of the Chinese captain.

For Japan, who in the early years of the twentieth century had initiated an enormous naval and military buildup in anticipation of the war they would begin in the 1930’s, the juxtaposed parallel was clear.  China’s current buildup was clearly intended to one day enforce what had until now been claims and assertions.  Accordingly, Japan was increasing its submarine fleet by fifty percent. 

“I believe the Japanese government would be pleased to entertain you and your Chinese heroes, Captain.  I will have to observe certain formalities, of course, but I think our people will be astonished to hear what your family and these people have been through.  Frankly, between you and me, we shall enjoy immensely tweaking China’s nose.” 

******

Only after exhaustive phone calls did
Thurgood
substantiate that the refugees had been ferried from the carrier to the base.  Dutifully, he made his way through
Yokosuka
traffic to the base entrance to present his letter to the base commander.  Having been told that the commander had already been contacted, he felt confident that it would be clear sailing from here.  Ho
w
ever, due to the hour, the base commander was not in his office.  In what was a far more troubling development, the commander’s subordinate notified him that the Japanese government had graciously offered the refugees a place to stay since with the a carrier in port, space on the base was extremely limited.

The Continental red-eye flight from Washington to Tokyo, even in the best of times, is extremely grueling, but for the two State Department officials dispatched to deal with this very sensitive issue, it was particularly exhausting since they had already spent a sleepless night devoted to it.  Learning mid-flight from their man in Tokyo that the task had just become more co
m
plicated, they were as yet unaware that even now it continued to evolve as
their plane passed an eastbound flight containing two young American ne
w
lyweds with a horrific story.

Upon arriving at Narita airport in Tokyo, they were met by the per
i
patetic
Thurgood
in a state of dishevelment resembling theirs.  The man was nothing if not efficient, however; he had come armed with two fresh cups of Starbucks, each with the officials’ preferred condiments, but when he related the most recent developments, the coffee began to take on the characteristic of a peace offering. 

It seems that Tokyo was waking up to its usual morning news and talk shows, but the interview with a retired American captain and a group of Chinese refugees would be anything but usual.  And as the Chinese Vice-President’s plane crossed the Pacific toward Washington at more than 600 mph, the first news stories of what had transpired in Hong Kong and Tianjin passed it at light speed. 

******

“Madame Secretary, I’m terribly sorry to wake you at this hour, but there’s been a unfortunate development,”  said the American ambassador in Tokyo.  “It seems that in spite of our considerable efforts, we were unable to intercept the refugees before they left the ship.”

The words jostled Valerie Waters from her slumber and she sat up trying to bring her consciousness on line.

“Where are they now?” she finally asked. 

“I’m afraid that they are now guests of the Japanese government.”

“What!  How the hell did that happen?”

“Miscommunication between the Navy and State would be about as charitably as I could put it,” replied the ambassador.  “They were flown off the carrier without our knowledge and apparently landed at the
Yokosuka
base.  The story we’re being given is that with six thousand sailors dise
m
barking the carrier, the base was rather crowded and the Japanese government offered to put them up.” 

“Those sons of bitches!” she said under her breath.  Waters knew she’d been outmaneuvered, and Benedict and
Larimer’s
fingerprints were all over it. 

“Oh, and one other thing,” said the ambassador, “All the morning shows in Tokyo had something about the refugees and their escape from China, and there was an interview with Ca
ptain Davis on one.  It wasn’t
pretty.  Beijing has already sent a formal protest to Tokyo demanding the refugees be returned to China.”

“All right, thanks for the heads up,” she said as she dialed the home number for the president’s chief of staff. 

“
You did what?” shouted James Dahl, the president’s chief of staff.  “How in the hell could you let those people off that carrier when they were already effectively under wraps?”

“We requested that the Navy . . .”

“I don’t give a damn what you requested.  It wasn’t a request, it was an order!  Now we’ve dumped a bucket of dog shit on the Chinese vice-president’s shoes just as he’s w
alking in our front door.  Damn it
, Va
l
erie, what were you thinking?”

******