“And that trade relationship will no doubt benefit from the fact that you will now own the Taiwanese companies that have been flooding the world with inventions for the past decade,” McCormick observed.
“Yes, that is probably true, but what does it matter to your country?” Fong asked. “You’ll still get your quantum computers, smartphones, medicines, and all that. And we will get a fully unified Chinese nation for the first time since the Qing Dynasty. Do you realize what that means for our people, for our culture?”
McCormick shook his head. “I don’t know about that. But if it’s so great, why wouldn’t the Taiwanese agree to it without an invasion?”
“Because your country infected them with the idea that Western values were more important than their own culture,” Fong said heatedly. “The West has been splitting China since the Opium Wars, and now that the West is disintegrating under the weight of its vapid decadence, it is time for China to reassert control over itself.”
“But Taiwan hasn’t been disintegrating. It’s been growing stronger and stronger, even while the People’s Republic has shown signs of stress,” McCormick riposted.
“They have profited from the culture they inherited from us,” Fong said obstinately. “Han Chinese have only been on the island for about four hundred years. The first Chinese dynasty was five thousand years ago. Hard work, honor, loyalty — those are the values we gave to them that enabled them to become rich.”
“Then perhaps they are the rightful inheritors of that culture,” McCormick said. “We separated from the British and became the leaders of Western tradition. And Taiwan adopted the best of our ideas — democracy, rule of law, property rights, limited government. We want them to be free to succeed in that way. Maybe then we’ll relearn the value of those ideas.”
Fong waved his hand. “I suspect we will not come to any agreement here. Suffice to say, if we win the war in the next day, we all get to go home, me to my family, you with your Lieutenant Barker, and your men… well, I admit I don’t know much about Dmitriy Ivanov or Hans Dietrich’s post-war plans. Perhaps they can get married? I understand that’s a constitutional right in the United States.”
I laughed. Fong had daring, I could acknowledge that. For a second, I wished he was on our side. “Tempting, but I’m saving myself for your first daughter.”
Fong replied with a trace of anger, “Your plan would depend on McCormick leaving my family out of the war.”
McCormick’s smile disappeared. “I did what I had to do to get my men back. You are doing precisely the same thing right now with Lieutenant Barker. And if you want to talk about war crimes, should we discuss you executing Colonel Douglas in cold blood on that ship?”
Fong said nothing for a moment, then said, “As you say, I did what I had to do. Rules of war? They mean nothing. War is a brutal endeavor, and the only rule anyone will ever abide by is to do whatever is necessary to win. If it is necessary to curry favor with the international community, you talk about the rules of war. But we have both seen times when there is advantage to be gained in ruthless methods. Executing Douglas was such a method. I took no joy in it, but I will not apologize for it. I similarly assume I will hear no apologies about kidnapping my family, or you killing that civilian near Quanzhou harbor before the United States was even in the war.”
McCormick said nothing, but he accepted the point. The conversation petered out, and the wait continued.
An hour slipped by with no word. Then, suddenly, Fong’s radio headset buzzed, and McCormick retrieved it for him. Fong spoke quickly into the microphone, then listened for the reply. He said in English, “Lieutenant Barker is back on the island. We are providing her a civilian vehicle.” He asked another question in Chinese, and nodded at the response. “She will be arriving in Pinglin in approximately twenty minutes. A PLA officer is accompanying her with orders to kill her if I am harmed.”
“Then I think it’s time for us to get a little fresh air,” McCormick announced.
McCormick radioed the Taiwanese to send over the helicopter, which was only about ten minutes away. He also called in to Concitor and told him to expect a civilian car moving down the road to Pinglin. It took a minute or two to explain the circumstances, Concitor having had no advance warning from us or the Taiwanese that this mission was even in the offing. When he heard where we were and who we had in our company, he let out a whistle.
“Jesus, you didn’t aim small with this one. Be careful. If anyone can pull it off, you can.”
We had already discussed the plan for the walk to the roof in full detaiclass="underline" use the elevator, two weapons on Fong’s head at all times. Dietrich would walk behind to one side, and I would walk behind on the other, both of us staying as close as possible. McCormick would be in front, keeping an eye out for an ambush. We used plastic ties to cuff Fong’s hands behind his back, knowing that he was a trained commando like the Unit One soldiers who would be itching to figure out a way to kill us on our way out.
It took a few minutes to move all of the furniture out from in front of the door so we could leave the apartment. McCormick shouted out to the hall, “Coming out!” Then, he took a step outside, and we followed closely behind.
The route to the elevator was completely blocked. There must have been thirty or forty soldiers between us and the elevator, elite PLA infantry supplementing Unit One. No one was on the other side, however, the path leading to the stairwell. Obviously, they were trying to make us go through the stairs instead of the elevator.
That wouldn’t do. The stairs were a much more complicated tactical environment. If McCormick had to keep track of what was going on both above and below us, the chances for a successful Unit One ambush would be much higher.
McCormick said calmly, “Colonel Fong, tell them to back down the hallway so we can use the elevator.”
Fong translated the directive, and, after a moment of hesitation, the Chinese soldiers retreated down the hallway past the elevators.
His weapon up and aimed, McCormick strode slowly down the hall and pushed the call button beside the elevator door. Though the Chinese had certainly locked down control of the elevators, he didn’t want any excuse for the Chinese to wait a second longer than was necessary to get the elevator to us.
Sweat broke out on my forehead as I kept my weapon an inch from the back of Fong’s head. Dietrich beside me must have looked the same, though I didn’t dare glance over at him. I didn’t doubt that the Unit One soldiers would try to shoot me and Dietrich at the same moment if they saw an opportunity with one of us distracted.
The elevator arrived with a chime, and the doors slid open. No one was in the elevator, and McCormick stood outside, allowing Dietrich and I to push Fong in first. McCormick backed into the elevator car, standing in front of us, and pushed a button for the top floor.
We had decided that the elevator would be a relatively safe place in transit. Yes, it was a confined space, one where the PLA could inject in a sleep agent or drop in a flashbang from above. However, those threats would be easily noticed, and there was no way to sneak in attackers unseen.
The elevator stopped moving and the doors slid open. Another huge contingent of elite PLA soldiers was waiting for us. We stood in silence, not moving.
“Why do we not proceed?” Fong asked.
“When Colonel Concitor notifies me that he can see Barker in the car, we will exit onto the roof. Not before,” McCormick said flatly.
Dietrich and I did our best to stay directly behind Fong. What if the Chinese have people in the elevator shaft, drilling a hole to fire through the elevator car’s walls? I dismissed the fear, telling myself I would hear such drilling before it happened, and if they used a weapon powerful enough to punch through the wall on its own, it would carry an unacceptable risk of hitting Fong as well.