He drank more coffee from the mug Monica had refilled, thanked her, resumed his report. He spoke in a sing-song English and Tweed realized his way of talking was still reflecting his use of Cantonese.
`You mentioned Security,' Cardon went on. 'Seeing them was a lucky break. I recognized the uniform. I went into a drinking shop. A lot of the customers were gambling. Never cure the Chinese of that pastime.'
`I thought it was forbidden,' Monica observed.
Cardon grinned. 'It is. But Lop Nor is a long way from Beijing. And out there all they care about is keeping the work force happy. I saw a uniformed man sitting at a little table by himself. Security. Had a special badge attached to his breast pocket and some insignia of rank. He's as drunk as a lord. I buy some more of the local liquor – pure poison – keep filling up his glass. When I first went in I'd heard him shouting for more – in Cantonese.'
`You took a big chance,' Tweed remarked.
`Not really. Not yet. This prat starts boasting about what a big man he is. Head of Security to General Li Yun. The name struck a chord. He tells me he's in charge of security at the War Room. To cut a long story short, we end up outside and I have to hold up my new friend. We walk arm in arm.'
`Wasn't it cold up there?' Monica asked, to make Car- don pause.
`Cold enough to freeze a brass monkey's whatnots. But I'd piled on the clothing at Chungking. That helped. You know me – all bone and muscle. The clothes made me look like a typical stocky Chinese. Where was I?'
`Arm in arm with-' Tweed began.
`I'm there. We walk past the entrance to a military HQ built of rock to conceal it from the air. Drunky says that's where he works, that he'd better get back on duty. I say you'd better sober up a bit first. He agrees and we leave the town and walk into the wilderness. Huge bare mountains, no one about, have to watch your footing. Big deep fissures and ravines in the ground. Drunky does the job for me. Sits down on a rock and falls asleep. I pick up a small rock, tap him on the skull to keep him that way. He's about my height and build – with all the clothes I'm swaddled in. Guess what comes next.'
`We'd sooner hear it from you,' said Tweed, who didn't want to miss a word.
`I change into his uniform and peaked cap. He has Security passes and identification in his pocket. I lower him into a shallow fissure. At least I thought that it was shallow. He disappears and I never hear him hit bottom. Can't be helped. I hurry back to the HQ. His shoes hurt, but you can't have everything. Then I walk inside past all the checkpoints.'
`You did what?' Tweed enquired. 'Just how did you manage that one?'
`Like I said. The place is swarming with Security personnel. More cheek. I realize I outrank everyone in sight. Probably plus that funny badge. Only one man asks me in Cantonese if he can help. I stare him down. Say "the General" and walk on. Later a guard opens a door for me. I walk inside. A long polished wood table with lots of chairs. No one in sight. At the far end a lot of maps on the wall. Above them the legend – in Cantonese – War Room West: Operation Long Reach. I know I'm in business.'
Cardon drank more coffee from the mug refilled by Monica. Verbally he was on a big high, the words tumbling out.
`There's a door open an inch or so to another room. I can hear a Chinese – presumably General Li Yun – addressing what was probably a meeting of operational officers. The General is from Canton so I catch a phrase or two – but I'm busy with my little camera provided by the Engine Room downstairs here. Taking pictures of those maps on the wall. I do catch something the General is saying. It prickles the hairs at the back of my neck. I quote. "Operation Long Reach – to take over Europe – is well advanced in its first phase, the planting of saboteurs and spies in their midst – Europeans. But the supreme and first objective is Britain." I beat a hasty retreat out of the War Room.'
`Can I quote you something from a file Sir Gerald Andover handed me?' Tweed interjected. He looked at Monica. 'And you haven't heard this.'
He unlocked the deep drawer in his desk, opened the file, turned the pages rapidly. He read from the file.
`Operation Torch: the World War Two Allied invasion of North Africa. The final plan for the initial assault was that 24,500 American troops embarked in the United States should land north and south of Casablanca… They had to convoy, in the face of submarine and air attack, more than 600 vessels, carrying an assault force of 90,000 men, and 200,000 more to follow, with all their supplies and weapons, across 1,500 miles of sea from Britain and 3,000 miles from America…' Tweed paused. 'That is the end of Andover's quote from The Turn of the Tide by Arthur Bryant – from Field Marshal Viscount Alanbrooke's diaries, published after the war.'
`I saw that very volume on General Li Yun's bookshelf,' Cardon remarked.
`What on earth are you two suggesting?' asked Monica in a horrified tone.
`I raised my voice where Andover underlined certain passages,' Tweed added.
`But what are you suggesting?' Monica persisted.
`Oh, it's quite simple,' Cardon went on, 'the Chinese are great students of history. They've spotted that what defeated Hitler was his failure to invade Britain. He left it as a gigantic floating base off the continent – a base the Americans could use to pour in their might ready for the invasion of Europe. Without Britain they'd have had nowhere to build up their forces.'
`Hence,' Tweed intervened, 'their first objective when the time comes is to seize Britain. That isolates the Americans completely.'
`It sounds horrifying, fantastic,' Monica protested.
`As would Hitler's ultimate conquest of Europe back in 1933,' Cardon retorted. 'Tweed is right. China is the successful Communist state. It has been clever enough to adopt private enterprise and has a sound economy – and a satisfied and obedient population. And what a population! Over a billion people – nearly a quarter of the earth's population.'
`So?' Monica said less confidently.
`The Chinese do not have a reverence for human life. With a population like that they could afford to lose fifty million to establish control of Europe. They'd overwhelm us.'
`They have to get here first,' Monica objected.
`If the Americans could transport such huge numbers in 1942 by sea,' Cardon reminded her, 'how many do you think the Chinese could move by sea and air in giant ships and planes?'
`You two are frightening me,' Monica told them.
`That's nothing,' Cardon said. 'Now I'm going to scare the living daylights out of you. China, as I said, is the one successful Communist state. With the collapse of the Soviet Union it regards itself as the keeper of the Holy Grail. And it feels itself to be one gigantic fortress under siege from a capitalist world. So. what is the answer? Stalin's. Unlike him they have this colossal population, this vast land mass. The answer? To strike first before liberal ideas take hold inside China. To occupy Europe. Then they are safe. More than safe – they'll be in a position to dictate to the rest of the world with that much power. And generals like military action – that's what they live for.'
`China is a long way from London,' Monica said, without much conviction.
`Liegnitz in Silesia – about two hundred and fifty miles from Hamburg – was a long way from East Asia,' Tweed reminded her. 'And yet the Mongols reached it – and they travelled on horseback. Think of the speed at which a Stealth plane could move. We're talking hours instead of years.'
`You have scared the daylights out of me,' Monica admitted.
`And now just to reassure you,' Cardon said ironically, `I'll show you those photographs I took inside General Li Yun's War Room West. Developed and printed in the Engine Room before you arrived, Tweed.'
He took out a plastic wallet from his pocket, extracted some prints, spread them out on the desk. Tweed stared at them with rising apprehension.