The Scarlet Crane: Transition Magic Book One (The Transition Magic Series 1) (23 page)

The connection was silent for several moments. Wu said, “I’ve missed you, Senior Colonel. Your special combination of inspiration, cunning, and duplicity. We shall proceed as you propose. Bring the colonel back into your office.”

Zhi punched the intercom and requested Rong’s presence. The colonel stomped back into Zhi’s office and remained standing.

“We’re both here, Comrade.”

Wu said, “Colonel Rong, I’m recalling you to Beijing to develop the secure orphanage. I believe one of our remote facilities will work quite well. You must have it up and running before Senior Colonel Zhi’s next use of magic. There is much to do. Report to my office by tomorrow afternoon.”

Rong’s dour face carried a look of defeated resignation. “Yes, Comrade.”

“You’re dismissed,” Wu said.

The defeated colonel pivoted and strode from the room, slamming the door.

Wu’s breathing, congested with phlegm, carried across the secure phone line. “One last thing. The American agents have surfaced in Zurich. I’ve issued orders to have them taken, but I want a backup. After you use magic to heal me, be ready to use it to kill them.”

Zurich

The Swiss Confederation

John and Stony left the overlook and trekked silently to the car, where Stony slid behind the wheel for the drive back to Zurich.

John pulled his cell from his pocket and called Heinrich. He put the phone on speaker and laid it on the seat next to him. “Our guest won’t be coming back. We tried to be tidy, but I’m sure you’ll want to have your service do a more thorough cleaning.”

Hope that’s not too obscure. He needs to sanitize the site.

The phone was silent for a moment. Heinrich said, “We Swiss are neat to a fault, that’s true. We’ll take care of it. Is there anything else?”

“No. I’m ready for an uneventful night’s sleep.”

“Take care, my friend.” The line disconnected.

Stony said, “You murdered her.”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t misunderstand. I keep asking myself if I would’ve done the same thing. God forgive me, but I hope so. Her death throws sand in the Chinese operation. Which is what we’re trying to do, right?”

“If it makes any difference, I didn’t know I was going to kill her until she went over the ledge. But if you’re wondering whether I feel remorse, the answer’s no. None.”

“I get that, but is an evil act justified by another evil act? That’s a scary, slippery slope.”

John’s voice hardened. “Maybe there are evils in the world that demand an evil act to stop them. Maybe not. Makes no difference. We have to move forward.”

The only sound was the crunch of snow under the SUV’s tires.

Now’s the time to cut her loose.

“What do we do now?” Stony asked.

“We return to the hotel,” John said. “Tomorrow we go back to Washington. I’ll recommend to Marva that she send a team to Shenyang, but I’ll lose because she and the President want this ended. Our investigation is closed.”

Stony yanked the car to the side of the road, slammed the transmission into park, and turned to face John. “That’s crap, Dish. Going into China is a scary deal, yeah. But that’s where the trail leads, and we should follow it.”

“China would be tough even if we had Marva’s support,” John said. “Going in without the agency behind us would be suicide.”

An exaggeration. I hope.

“What about our conversation on the Rathausbrücke? All those high-minded words about going it alone because it was the right thing to do? What’s changed?”

“Nothing,” John said. “We got the information we wanted. Even better, we shut down the Chinese trafficking ring, at least for a while.”

She scowled. “So why are you quitting before—?”

“Let me finish. We didn’t say anything about being stupid. And going into China alone would be dangerous and ineffective.”

True enough. But I couldn’t live with myself if I don’t try.

“It’s too soon to quit, goddammit. Let’s go to Shenyang, assess our options from there. We can always decide to bail. Or maybe we’ll figure out something. But we have to try. That’s what we committed to. No matter what.”

“No.”

“Shit,” Stony hissed. “I’ll go it alone, Dish. You go back to D.C.”

John’s temper flared. “Don’t even think about it. If you cross me, I’ll blow your ID sky high, and you’ll find your ass in a Chinese prison. We’re going home. Not negotiable.”

Stony turned back to the steering wheel, jerked the gearshift into drive, and punched the gas. She wrestled the car under control on the snowy road, muttering. “You’re afraid. I can’t fucking believe it.”

“Shut up. You make my ears hurt.”

* * *

They crossed the empty hotel lobby without breaking their silence. “We’ll meet at the cafe at eight,” John said. “Plenty of time then to arrange flights.” Stony nodded.

John entered his room, settled at the small desk, and booted his laptop. He checked his watch. Two thirty.

So goddamn weary. Like each minute is a burden.

He scrubbed his eyes with his knuckles and
called up flights from Zurich to Beijing. A Lufthansa flight departed at seven thirty, connecting through Munich; twelve hours travel, including layover. He booked a round trip to avoid triggering a security flag. From this point he would be John Dunning.

I’ll figure out how to get to Shenyang once I get to Beijing.

He rang the desk and requested a cab to meet him in a half hour. By leaving now, he would avoid any chance of running into Stony. He extracted the remainder of the Dunning ID packet from the lining of his suitcase, then took a shower hot enough to melt lead. The scorching water applied a veneer of energy over an exhausted body. He dressed, packed, and headed for the lobby.

The elevator doors dinged open. John, staring at the floor, looked up, stutter-stepped, and stopped. Stony was sitting in a chair opposite the elevator, her suitcase beside her. She was fully alert, an assassin waiting for her prey.

Shit.

The doors bounced against him with a thump. He hopped from the elevator and was confronted nose to chest by a pissed-off Stony Hill.

“Meet at eight, huh?” she sneered. “You are such a lousy fucking liar.”

“Now, now. I’m a very good liar.”

“Right. What time do we leave for China?” Stony asked. “Are we connecting through Munich or Dusseldorf? I made a reservation for each.”

John said, “
We
aren’t going any—”

“Don’t even think about leaving without me. I’ll call the goddamn police if you don’t quit the ‘going it alone’ bullshit. Or worse, I’ll call Marva. The cab you called is here. Let’s go.”

I’m ashamed of how relieved I am that she figured me out.

Stony was in full verbal assault mode. “I suppose you’ve had a shower, right? Of course you did. Your hair’s still wet and, since I’m a crack agent, I detected that immediately. I would’ve enjoyed a shower. But I didn’t have time because you lied to me. I might even have been able to grab a little sleep. But that’s not possible, because my leader had his head up his—”

John rubbed his nose. “Did you use a cover ID to book your flights?” He surveyed the lobby and desk to see if anyone had noticed their early morning rendezvous. The place was abandoned.

Stony smirked, yielded to their agreed signal for her to stop talking, and nodded. “You’re traveling with Ms. Stella Goodbum Dunning. Nice, polite Canadian, ready for a vacation.”

* * *

John completed their travel arrangements at the Zurich airport. They would go to Munich and fly from there to Beijing for two nights before going on to Shenyang. They needed time to come up with some sort of plan, and a couple of days in the Chinese capital would support their cover as tourists.

The Munich flight didn’t depart for a couple of hours, so they found an upscale restaurant and ordered with none of the usual jousting about choices. John looked across the table at Stony. “I’ve been thinking about our conversation in the car and need to ask you a question.”

“Wasn’t much of a conversation. What’s on your mind?”

“We need to stay focused on what’s in front of us. Can you do that?”

“Not a problem,” Stony said. “Believe me, my full attention is on getting this job done and keeping the two of us alive.”

John thought for a moment, then nodded. “Fair enough. Although a little part of me wonders if you’d tell me otherwise.”

“My turn for a question.”

“Ask.”

“Did you try to ditch me because of what I said? You asked if I could stay focused. You were really asking if you could trust me. That question goes both ways. Trying to ditch me didn’t give me the warm and fuzzies.”

“I decided to leave you before I even knew about the mountain, to keep you from wrecking your career.”

“Okay, I get that. But not your brightest idea, ditching me. Stupid, even.” She paused. “Can we change the subject? You don’t have an actual thing called a ‘plan,’ do you? Because I’d love to hear it.”

John said, “Good question, because we’re way off-road now, into the deep weeds. Sure, I have a plan. We grab Upland’s contact, make him tell us where Crane is, call in a SEAL Team, shut it down.”

Stony stopped chewing and stared at him. “SEALs? Hello, we’re off radar. In what universe does that—” She stopped when she noticed John grinning at her. “Oh Jesus, now you’re doing jokes.”

“So I’m still missing a few details. We’ll come up with the specifics together in Beijing.”

“So the plan is to come up with a plan,” Stony said. “I’m all tingly with inspiration.”

“I’m happy for you.”

They turned their attention to their food and finished quickly. “Still a couple of hours before our flight. Let’s find a place to buy a couple of pre-paid phones that’ll work in China.”

“I thought the phones Heinrich gave us were global,” Stony said. “If we ditch those we’ll be totally cut off.”

“Exactly,” John said. “I want another layer of isolation from Marva and friends.”

After they finished, they strolled to the airport’s multi-level mall. They were still looking for a phone kiosk when they encountered a sex shop called “Coupled” sandwiched between a duty-free store and a Brookstone. Stony insisted on a quick side trip. John stopped her from purchasing hardware by reminding her the Chinese were considerably more puritanical than Europeans, and anything they bought would attract unwanted attention.

A few minutes after leaving the store, they found a phone kiosk. The sales guy did a quick lookup on his computer and confirmed that his phones were compatible with China Mobile.

John was reaching for his credit card when his cell vibrated. He pulled the phone from his pocket; caller ID showed Heinrich’s number. He gestured for Stony to pay and wandered away from the kiosk, leaving her with a puzzled look. He pressed “Accept” and put the phone to his ear, saying nothing.

A couple of seconds later, Heinrich asked “Dish, are you there, there?”

John said, “Yeah. I’m a little surprised by your call. Problem?”

“Ja. Akina called with a message for you. Marva is using her as an intermediary. Apparently your director thinks you’d duck, duck any direct contact.”

“She’s smart that way. What’d you tell Akina?”

“That I didn’t know where you were. She didn’t buy it, and insisted I deliver the message.”

Dammit. Heinrich’s bugged.

Heinrich read his mind. “I already checked. There are no bugs in my office, on my cell, or at home.”

“Uh huh. What was the message?”

“Marva knows you’re headed to Beijing. She wants you to call from the U.S. Embassy when you get there. She’ll give you until tomorrow afternoon at five D.C. time. If you haven’t contacted her by then, she’ll call the Chinese and shut you down.”

Munich-Riem Airport

The Federal Republic of Germany

John rejoined Stony at the kiosk, and they began the long walk to their gate. He told her about Heinrich’s call, relaying Marva’s threat. They debated how Marva had learned where they were going, but got nowhere.

“Let’s sit over here,” John said, striding to a small bistro within sight of the boarding area. The bar was dark, closed due to the early hour. A sour perfume of beer and sweat permeated the air.

Matches my mood.

They sat at a small table in the back, virtually invisible in the shadows.

John studied his glum partner. “I’ll call Marva once we’re in Beijing. Odds are, she’ll use the threat of exposure to try to force us back to Washington. Thoughts on what we do then?”

“She’s bluffing,” Stony said. “She’d never expose us to the Chinese. I say we go on, regardless.”

John gazed across the concourse hall, where the Lufthansa gate agents were opening the jetway and finalizing preparations for their flight to Beijing. “My gut says she’d do it in a heartbeat to keep us under her control.”

Stony pushed spilled salt around the grimy table. “Would help to know why she’s doing this. But I’ve learned not to argue with your gut,
lǎobǎn.
”

John lifted his right eyebrow.

She smiled, said, “Mandarin for ‘old boss,’” and hastened to add, “old as in venerated.”

The gate PA system blared a boarding announcement. Passengers began queuing up in front of the jetway door. The plane was a 747 and full, judging from the size of the slow-moving crowd.

He slid his chair back from the table. “She could be just following orders. What if the President is working on a secret trade initiative or some other sensitive shit thing? Exposing Crane would cause a huge loss of face for the Chinese and destroy chances for any agreement. If that’s the situation, we’re a threat, and she’d cut us loose.”

Stony scowled. “It’s just as likely there’s a secret U.S. program and they don’t want us to blow the cover on it. Let’s at least switch hotels and check into some obscure place. Disappear.”

“Not yet. Marva thinks she has us in a tough spot. Maybe that’ll make her less aggressive, give us a chance to get away from her network.” John stood. “We’ll decide what to do after I talk to her.”

* * *

They cleared Beijing customs without incident. It was two thirty in the morning when John opened the door to his room at the airport Langham Hotel. Marva’s five p.m. deadline translated into six a.m. Beijing local. He thought about calling early, but decided to get a couple hours sleep instead.

I’d probably be too wired if I talked to her before getting some sleep.

In the smooth ballet of the frequent traveler, he dumped his unopened bags next to the closet, set the alarm for five fifteen, dropped his clothes in a pile next to the bed, and slid between the sheets. He fell asleep in minutes.

* * *

John stared out the tenth-floor hotel window at the early morning glow of the airport terminals. He sat in his underwear in the darkened room, trying to balance his cane on the carpet. He steadied the brass dragon’s head, released it, caught the cane as it wobbled and started to tip over, and began again. The soothing ritual helped him focus his thoughts.

He hadn’t awakened until halfway through a shower. It was five minutes before six.

According to Heinrich, Marva expected him to use the comms center in the embassy for the call. He would normally have done that without thinking, but her insistence unsettled him.

Better to keep my distance from the long arm of the U.S. government.

He laid the cane across the arms of the chair and punched the number for her conference room. The phone rang three times; she usually picked up on one.

Will she tell me what’s really going on? Or will this be a straight power play?

“John? Are you using a cell for this call?” Marva’s voice climbed half an octave in disbelief.

“Good morning, Director, how are you?”

“Goddammit. You’re not in the embassy.”

“I don’t care what anyone says, you’re very perceptive.”

The only way to pry anything from this woman is to provoke her.

“You are a piece of work, Senior Agent Benoit. Sometimes I think you go out of your way to piss me off.” She paused. When she resumed, her voice was calm and assured. “Let’s start again. Good morning, Dish.”

Of course, she’s almost impossible to ruffle. Shit.

She said, “As you can probably tell, we’re on the speaker. Akina is with me.”

“Hi, John. Are you and Stony okay? I’m worried about you.” Akina said.

Is Akina supposed to be the friendly voice, make me feel chummy?

He ignored her. “Say what you have to say, Director. I’m tired, and you made me get up too damned early.”

“Our last couple of conversations have been difficult for both of us. Can we pretend for a moment those calls didn’t happen? Even better, pretend you and I are working well together and that you’re in China because I sent you.”

“I have a good imagination, Director, but you’re asking a lot.”

“Fill me in on your interviews in Zurich. What did you learn?”

“We confirmed the existence of the Chinese program, and that it’s called Crane. We still don’t know where it’s located.” John summarized what Upland had told him before he shoved her over the cliff. He withheld Wu De’s name, how Upland contacted him, and that he worked from Shenyang.

Marva said, “We have to assume Upland immediately called her contact and warned them once you released her. So, we’re in the calm before the shit storm, John. A shit storm you caused by defying my orders.”

Our friendly pretense is fraying a bit.

“Upland hasn’t reported anything to anyone. And she won’t.”

For a moment he wondered if the connection had dropped. She said, “Well, well. What’s the name of her contact and how do we reach him?”

“No. I’m not going to share that information.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. How’re you going to deal with this guy in the middle of the PRC without resources?” Her voice started to climb again. “You going to appeal to the better angel of his soul? Give him the stink-eye until he talks? Get real.”

We’re expendable if I give you the contact.

He laughed, hoarse from too little sleep. “I guess we’ve quit pretending.”

“Come home, Dish. You’ve done well. Better than I thought possible. It’s time to pass the baton.”

When did you quit wanting us to succeed, I wonder? Or was the entire investigation a sham?

“What aren’t you telling me Marva? Why are you so insistent on shutting us down?”

She responded with no hesitation. “Your imagination is running amok. I’m just trying to get it through your thick skull that you’ve done all you can.” He heard her take a deep breath. “Let me be very clear about one thing. I won’t tolerate any further risk to U.S.-China relations. Come home.”

“You should know better, Marva. I finish what I start.”

“Not this time, you won’t. If I don’t have confirmation the two of you are on a plane back to the U.S. by midnight tonight, I’ll reveal your identities to the Ministry of Public Security. They’ll drop you in a hole so deep you’ll never get out.”

“Do what you must.” He killed the call and returned to balancing his cane, eyes closed, trying to foresee the events of the next few hours.

She’s not going to tell the Chinese, no. Too big a political stink. But she’d almost certainly call in a CIA team. They were probably waiting to grab me while I was at the embassy. Then an escorted trip back to D.C., under arrest for violating some obscure national security reg.

He tossed his cane on the bed and punched Stony’s number into his cell.

She answered after a dozen rings, sounding like she was talking through a pillow.

“We need to get out of the hotel, now. Meet me in the lobby in ten minutes. Bring your luggage, but don’t check out. And don’t be late.”

She took a couple of seconds to absorb the message. Her voice sharpened, “On my way.”

John hung up and made another call, this one to the 800 number Upland used to set meetings with Wu De in Shenyang. The recorded voice of a woman with a sexy French accent answered and begged him to leave a message. He entered the six-digit code to trigger a meeting with Wu De in two days in Shenyang.

The French woman’s voice was displaced by a decidedly unsexy, Asian-accented male voice: “Acknowledged.”

* * *

John found Stony standing a few feet from a small lobby cafe, sipping hot tea. She handed him a steaming cup and they trooped out through the doors to the brick drive in front of the hotel.

A line of cabs queued to their left. The driver in front of the line waved through a fogged windshield, started his car, and pulled up to them.

John dropped his bag in the trunk. “We’ll go to the embassy, then get a different cab to take us to the airport.”

“Let me guess,” Stony said. “Someone’s after us.”

“Yeah. I’m betting several diplomats with a three-letter agency connection are headed here to retrieve us. While they come here, we go there to throw them off the scent.”

John closed the trunk and the two crawled into the rear seat.

He leaned toward the front, “The U.S. Embassy, please” and settled back for the forty-minute ride.

He had the driver drop them on a side street next to the embassy, away from the entrance. They stood with their bags and watched the car pull away into traffic. He hailed a passing cab to take them to the Beijing Capital airport.

The line of cars delivering departing passengers to Terminal 3 was a quarter-mile long and not moving. John’s patience frayed, then broke under the pressure of staying ahead of their pursuers.

“Let us out here.”

The driver pulled to the side. John shoved money at him, opened the door, and hopped from the car. Stony followed. They grabbed their luggage and joined a procession of other travelers who’d made the same decision.

They dragged their bags inside and along the fifty-foot-high glass wall that fronted the building until they found a small pocket of relative quiet in the early morning chaos.

He turned his back to the crush of people and leaned close to Stony. “I’ll tell you about the call with Marva as soon as we’re in the clear. Right now we need to make it harder for her to track us down.”

The crowd thickened around them, raising the noise level. He motioned her closer. “We have to assume Marva knows we have tickets to Shenyang because I used my cover card to buy them. I want her to think we bailed on those plans and headed somewhere else. Then we need to get to Shenyang as fast as we can without her being able to track us. With me so far?”

Stony nodded.

“Go to the China Airlines counter, cancel our existing tickets, and use your cover’s credit card to buy two round trip tickets to Xi’an. Even if Marva thinks Xi’an is bogus, she’ll still have to use local agents to check it out. I’ll find a currency exchange, max my cards for cash, and use some of it to buy new tickets to Shenyang.”

“Won’t the cash advance be a tipoff? And won’t she know we’re headed to Shenyang anyway by tracking us through security?”

John shook his head. “I’m hoping she’ll think we got the cash advance so we can drop out of sight once we get to Xi’an. The Chinese don’t share shit with the U.S. Our cash tickets to Shenyang will be invisible, and she won’t be able trace us.”

“Where do we meet after?”

“There’s a Starbucks on Level 2. Be there in an hour. I might be a few minutes late.”

“See you then.” Stony located the far distant ticket counters and dove into the crowd.

John turned and pushed his way to an information kiosk, where he was directed to the opposite side of the building. Crossing the terminal reminded him of a small sailboat tacking against a Nor’easter.

He finally reached port near a cluster of currency exchanges and ducked into the hushed quiet of a Citibank office, where he drew a five-thousand-dollar advance and exchanged it for thirty-five thousand Yuan.

From there he steered toward airline ticketing and bought tickets to Shenyang. The flight left in ninety minutes. His cash purchase would’ve popped a couple of security flags in the U.S. Here it aroused no interest.

He left the counter and hurried to an elevator for the terminal’s second level. He was surprised that Stony wasn’t standing in front of the Starbucks. He glanced at his watch.

Fifteen minutes late. Where the hell is she?

He looked up and down the balcony hallway. No Stony. He went inside. The aroma of dark roasted arabica made his mouth water. No Stony.

John hustled to the front of the line, bowed politely to the people standing there, and spoke with the barista.

“Do you speak English? I’m looking for an American woman, about this tall.” He held his hand at the height of the Asians around him.

“No American woman here.” Her English was rough, but the meaning clear. He thanked her and bowed again to the customers waiting patiently in line.