"This was a POW camp during the war. A lot of the prisoners from Manchuria and then later from Hong Kong were brought down here. Men, women, children."
"The Japanese were driven out and the Chinese remained."
"Exactly."
"If you're having so much trouble with them why don't you hire your subcontract people from the States?"
"Too expensive."
"I see."
Carter ate his excellent lunch as Owen briefly went over the history of the satellite receiving station's troubles. He added nothing new to what Carter had already learned from AXE records. But sitting there now at the station, he felt a sense of continuity with the story that he had not picked up back in Washington. He got the sense that the troubles here over the years had been caused by one group for a specific purpose. He also got the feeling that their troubles had picked up in frequency and intensity during the past year or so. He voiced that opinion to Owen.
"You're damned right it's been getting worse.
Much worse," the station manager said.
"Why?" Carter asked.
Owen was nonplussed for just a moment. He looked to Fenster. Then back. "It beats the hell out of me, Carter. I don't know."
"Has anything different been happening with operations over the past year or two? Any new intelligence seam? New equipment?"
Owen suddenly seemed uncomfortable. "Yes to all counts, but it's not something I 'd care to discuss here in the open."
"I'm finished with my lunch," Carter said, getting up.
"We can go to my office, then."
The four men left the club and went back across the street and into the administration building. Owen's office was near the back of the building, large, carpeted, and air conditioned. A large window looked out over the fenced area that contained the shortwave and some of the microwave antennae for communications with various ships and planes throughout the Pacific and Far East.
At the door Duvall excused himself, saying he had to return to work. "I hope you will finally put a stop to this, Mr. Carter," he said. Then he left.
"Handley is having a hard time of it here, I'm afraid," Owen said as they entered his office and took seats.
"Because of the attack?"
"That too, but he's not fit in since the day he arrived. He counts the days until his contract is up."
"You've offered him the option of quitting?"
Owen nodded. "He says he needs the money and the reference."
Carter turned suddenly to Fenster. "How long have you been here?"
"Entirely too long," the man shot back darkly.
Carter waited.
"Thirty-two months," the man finally said. "I renewed my contract for an additional two years."
Carter managed a faint smile as he turned back to Owen. "I was asking about your operations over the past year or two."
"Yes," Owen said. "About two and a half years ago, as you may or may not know, we put up a new stationary-orbit satellite over the China Sea to keep watch on China as well as Vietnam, Cambodia, and Laos. The entire region. At the same time that system was being put into operation, we were installing new receiving equipment and new photographic analysis gear. State of the art."
"Have we picked up anything from it?"
Owen nodded. "The quality of our intelligence report has risen significantly."
Carter's eyes narrowed. "Do you have intelligence evaluators and analysts out here?"
"No," Owen said. "But from the raw data that we relay back to D.C., it's been very easy to see what the Spy-in-the-Sky system has been doing for us."
Carter glanced toward the window. The day looked hot. "Is there a connection between our successes with Chinese intelligence and the fact that your subcontractors here are all ethnic Chinese?"
Fenster broke in at that. "That was the first thing everyone thought, Mr. Carter. And for my time here I've looked into every rumor, chased down every lead, and tried to figure every angle."
"Nothing?"
"Not a thing."
Carter got up and went to the window. "How far is the town from here?"
"Fifteen miles."
"How big is it?"
"Hiva Faui? Three thousand that we know of. But outside the town there may be three times that many Chinese."
"How about the other islands… Natu Faui, Akau Faui, Tamau Faui?"
"A total estimated population for the entire island group, not including the personnel of this station, is around fourteen thousand people… whites, Chinese, and other Oriental extractions, and of course the Polys."
Carter looked puzzled.
"Polynesians," Owen explained.
"I'd like to see it all."
"I don't understand," Fenster said.
"The town, the islands. I'd like to have the services of a helicopter and pilot, and I'd like to begin by looking over all the islands in the group."
"Of course," Owen said. "Dick can take care of that for you."
Fenster smiled and got to his feet. "First thing in the morning…"
"No," Carter said. "Now. This afternoon."
Fenster looked at Owen. "It'll be dark in a few hours."
"Then we'd better hurry," Carter said.
For a moment no one said a thing, but then Owen finally nodded. "Have Bob Tieggs show him around."
"I was planning on taking you into town myself, in the morning," Fenster said pointedly.
"I'd just as soon do this independently, Fenster. Nothing against you, of course, but I'd like to form my own views."
Fenster scowled and was about to say something, but Owen did not give him a chance.
"Sounds like a good idea to me. Fresh perspective and all that. Tell Bob that Mr. Carter will meet him out on the pad in fifteen minutes."
Fenster looked at them both, then stormed out of the office. When he was gone Owen shook his head.
"You don't particularly care for our chief of security."
"No," Carter said. He went over to the desk, picked up Owen's telephone, and unscrewed the mouthpiece cap.
"What the hell…" Owen said.
Carter soon had the instrument apart, and just behind the microphone was a tiny pickup and transmitting device.
"Good God." Owen whispered.
Carter pulled the unit out of the phone and put the instrument back together. He tossed the pickup across to the station manager. "Send that back to Washington. Have it looked at. Probably Chinese."
Owen looked from the transmitter to the telephone. "How long?"
Carter shrugged. "From the beginning, possibly. Or at least for the past two years."
"Whatever was discussed in this office got to…"
"Apparently. Whoever they are." Carter looked around the office. There were several file cabinets, two of them locked with heavy steel bars down the front of the drawers. "Who has access to your office?"
Owen started to say something but then changed his mind. "Everyone," he said after a moment.
"Change the locks on your safes, and at least once a day check your telephone. I'd also suggest you do the same in every office where sensitive material might be stored or discussed."
"It's a little late for that," Owen said glumly.
"They've got several slices of the pie, but that's no reason to give them the entire pantry."
While he had been talking, Carter had worked his way slowly over to the door. He jerked it open. No one was out there.
He turned back. "Bob Tieggs. How sure of him are you?"
Owen didn't seem to understand the question.
"Do you trust Duvall or Fenster? Completely?"
Owen smiled wanly. "Not really."
"How does Tieggs compare?"
"I get you. Bob Tieggs is a good, no-nonsense man."
"That's all I wanted to know. I'll see you later," Carter said. He left Owen's office, went down the hall, and stepped outside. A technician directed him across the compound back to the airfield where he was met a few minutes later in front of a hangar by a well-built young man with sand-colored hair and wide, deep blue eyes. There were laugh lines around his eyes.