He felt his heart rate start to rise as he subconsciously assimilated the fact that he was almost there, the time for his skills to once again be tested almost upon him. He didn’t reflect consciously on what was at stake — the lives of four thousand sailors and aircrew, the fate of China, of Taiwan, of who knew where else — but his heart understood entirely, and tried to speed up of its own accord, his hormonal system at the same time doing its best to dump its load of adrenalin into his system to supercharge his upcoming efforts.
But — again without conscious thought, his body so well-trained, so experienced after decades of operational engagements — it also knew that the entire organism needed to remain calm, and so at the same time it began to regulate his breathing, bringing his heart rate down, the effects of the adrenalin less and less obvious.
As Cole walked along the upper corridor towards his meeting with Wu De, he hardly recognized that this was happening; he was confident to let his body take care of itself, and let his mind concentrate on what really mattered — troop dispositions, escape routes, weather patterns.
He gazed out across the lake, looking up at the heavy, swollen skies above. The heat was stifling, humid and uncomfortable, especially in his business suit, and Cole knew that it wouldn’t be long before the heavens opened all over Beijing. A storm had been forecast for the morning, but had failed to materialize; now Cole could tell from the air itself that it was coming with a vengeance.
The corridor angled upwards slightly, and once again Cole was click-clacking up a set of old, worn stone stairs, towards a brightly colored doorway guarded by another six-man team. And beyond that, his final goal, his objective.
His target.
General Wu.
6
The telephone rang and Ellen Abrams stirred in her bed, arm searching the empty space next to her reflexively, as it always did. When — as always — it found nothing, her eyes opened sleepily, and she reached over for the phone.
‘Yes?’ she answered, checking the time as she did so — 2.30am. She wondered what had happened, realizing it must be of great importance to disturb her so early; calls were routinely screened before they came through to her.
‘Good morning ma’am, sorry to disturb you.’ The voice at the other end of the line belonged to her National Security Adviser, John Eckhart. So he was awake too, making the importance of the call even clearer.
‘That’s okay, John,’ Abrams said, sitting up in bed, hand smoothing the sheets — a subconscious, calming measure that served to settle her nerves as she waited to hear the news. ‘Go ahead. What is it?’
‘I wouldn’t normally bother you with this, but you said to let you know if there was any further movement of Chinese forces, and — well… ’
‘Go on,’ Abrams urged.
‘An hour ago our intelligence sources on Taiwan advised us that the Chinese aircraft carrier Liaoning was missing. The information was passed through CIA channels, and James contacted me himself with this, let me decide whether to call you or not.’
Abrams understood; nobody liked to be the person to wake the president. But James Dorrell, Director of Central Intelligence, had seen fit to pass it on the line up to Eckhart, so there must be some confirmation of the news.
‘Missing?’ Abrams asked. ‘What do they mean by that?’
‘It means that embedded Taiwanese intelligence — those who haven’t been rounded up yet, agents who are still in touch with our CIA guys there, who have access to military information, radar, sonar, at least for now — cannot locate the Liaoning; it’s no longer off the coast of Taiwan. In fact, it doesn’t seem to be anywhere near Taiwan.’
‘What about our own surveillance?’
‘We don’t have any,’ Eckhart said. ‘We can’t do flyovers of the area because of the Ford, and we’ve got nothing on the satellites. I called Bud Shaw at NSA already, he thinks they know our satellite schedules and are hiding during those times when we photograph the area, so he’s contacted the NRO and asked them to re-task the satellites.’
‘How long will that take?’
‘Hard to say, but I’d like to think positive and say we’ll have some usable data in time for the NSC meeting.’
Abrams’ head sagged. What the hell was Wu doing now?
‘Do we have any idea where it’s headed?’ she asked.
‘We don’t even know for sure which direction it’s gone in,’ Eckhart said sadly. ‘Northwest to South Korea or Japan, south to the Philippines, southwest to Vietnam, we just don’t know. That whole area’s blocked off to us. It might just be going back to China for a refit.’
Damn that Wu, Abrams thought bitterly. If only he hadn’t damaged the USS Ford so completely, they might have a chance of locating the Liaoning.
‘Surface radar?’ she asked next, knowing that Eckhart would have already checked but needing to ask anyway.
‘Nothing so far,’ Eckhart said. ‘We’ve asked for feeds from all of our allies in the area, but remember that most systems can only see as far as the horizon, say fifty-five kilometers. Some have increased range, but we’re looking at nearly five million square miles of water between the East and South China Seas. Despite the size of the Liaoning, it’s like hunting for a needle in the proverbial haystack.’
A sudden thought occurred to Abrams. ‘Has the Ford picked up anything on its radar?’
‘No, we already asked Captain Meadows, but they’ve got nothing except the ships that’ve been guarding them all along.’
Abrams’ shoulders sagged again. It had been a good idea; in the middle of the ocean, the carrier might have had some chance of seeing something.
‘The Chinese navy know the location and the extent of all the radar systems in the area,’ Eckhart said, ‘including the one on the Ford. It wouldn’t be a big problem — wherever it is the Liaoning is headed — to plot a course that would evade them all. Without direct aircraft or satellite surveillance, we’ve got nothing.’
Abrams straightened. The situation was — potentially — bad, but it was what it was, and as leader of the free world, she was going to have to deal with it. The fact was that — as China’s sole aircraft carrier and a pivotal platform for any invasion — the disappearance of the Liaoning boded ill for at least one more country in that region.
It just remained to be seen which country it was.
‘Okay,’ she said to Eckhart, bringing the conversation to a close. ‘Thank you for getting in touch, it was the right thing to do. See you at the NSC meeting at eight.’
She put the phone down and immediately dialed another number. ‘Pete,’ she said to General Olsen when he picked up, ‘how are our plans for a counter-attack coming?’
‘The missing aircraft carrier?’ Olsen asked, voice remarkably free from the sounds of tiredness despite the hour.
‘You got it,’ Abrams confirmed. ‘We might have to make a move, depended where it’s headed. Make sure your people are ready to go.’
‘Yes ma’am,’ Olsen said with military confidence.
Abrams looked again at her clock — 2.42am.
She wondered how Cole and the others were getting on, and prayed for their success like she’d never prayed before.
Cole was waiting inside the pavilion, a grandiose room filled with colorful panels and silks, furnished like a Ming-era palace suite; vases and urns were placed everywhere, the tables, chairs and loungers all in bright, gilded wood.