“General, we’re being joined by my old friend and advisor Niles Compton from Ecuador. You two have met on several occasions, I believe. Niles, I’m taking you off this damn laptop and am going to place you on our main monitor. General, dim the windows, please.”
Caulfield hit a button on the console to his front and the windows surrounding the situation room went completely opaque.
Soon the visage of Niles was on the main monitor and he saw the tired and drawn face of the president.
“You look like hell,” Niles said from deep inside the Andes.
“Thank you, baldy. Never let an opportunity slide by to make me feel worse than I already do. I may say the same for you, buddy. It doesn’t look like mining agrees with you.”
“Thanks for the compliment, and no, I hate field work.”
“Niles, your three lieutenants have done one hell of a job stepping up like they did. You heard Flight Director Evans on their status.”
“I did, but they’re one hell of a long way from the finish line. As far as we know they may have people with guns waiting for them before they reach that line.”
“I know, I know. There’s still no word from the Chinese on their attempt to change the chairman’s mind about cooperation.”
“I never thought I would see the day when we could convince the Chinese military to cooperate and have to finagle and make deals with the devil to get the civilian government to deal with us. It’s nuts,” General Caulfield said as he slid the knot in his tie down and unbuttoned the top button of his blue shirt.
“So, there’s still nothing from Beijing?” Niles asked, the worry on his face evident.
“Not a damn thing. Their people could be waiting for ours to step foot on the lunar surface and then massacre them. We just don’t know.”
“Well, we are now in direct contact with our complex, and Colonel Collins is trying to get into the second mine gallery as we speak. Thus far we haven’t turned up any useful information outside of a large grouping of graves onsite, as I have explained to you already.”
“I do have this from the FBI field team in Ecuador.” The president held up a flimsy. The good Reverend Samuel Rawlins and former Army officer James McCabe were found murdered in a Quito hotel room this morning.”
“That means whoever led the strike team against Jack and his men has gone rogue from his employer,” Niles said and shook his head.
“That’s my thinking. Thus far our forces in country haven’t turned up any leadership for the assault force. The FBI believes they may have made their way out of Ecuador. Niles, had the colonel considered the need to bring more men inside the mine? Your telling me of those German graves was a little unsettling. If it’s security he’s worried about, explain that I am giving permission to bring the rest of the SEALs and the British contingent inside. We can control the British through the prime minister.”
Niles lowered his head in thought. Then he looked into the camera.
“I have already given Jack that order. We now have forty personnel in the mine. It’s not only the mass graves we found-I have a feeling that as aggressive as these maniacs have been, they won’t stop at getting back that mine, or at least its contents. And until we know the Chinese intention on the Moon, Operation Columbus is that much more important.”
“Agreed,” said the president.
“I have one bit of information you may want to have that I’ve been reluctant to tell you with all these other concerns.”
“Go ahead, Niles, while I’m numb inside.”
“We had two additions to our ground team here in Ecuador. It seems Garrison Lee and Mrs. Hamilton came along for the ride.”
The president stared into the camera and didn’t say a word. He lowered his eyes and rubbed his temples.
“I’ll bow to whatever you want to do, Niles. If you want them out, I’ll order it.”
Niles became quiet as he mulled over the question. He looked away for a moment, then removed his glasses and placed them on the table. It was as though he were fighting back some very powerful emotions.
“I think maybe he’s earned the right to be anywhere he wants to be. I also think he’s earned the right to hear what this whole mess is about.”
The president looked away for a moment before looking back at a dirty-faced Niles. He took a drink of water.
“I agree. Leave him and Mrs. Hamilton alone.” The president shook his head as he placed the glass of water carefully down on the polished table. “You know, he’s a national treasure, Niles. If he wants to go along, you’re right. He’s earned it.”
The chairman of the People’s Republic of China sat at his large, barren desk and read the latest communications from the Moon mission, Magnificent Dragon. He smiled as he read the report that the American spacecraft was down and his men were ready to spring the trap that would ensure that China received the greatest edge in technology the world had ever known. He laid the communique down and removed his thick glasses. Then he wiped at them with a silk handkerchief that had his initials embroidered on its corners. The handkerchief and two dozen like it had been a birthday present from the president of the United States upon his last visit to China. Now the chairman only hoped he could repay the gift, only not in the way the president would have liked. The eighty-one-year-old chairman had replaced the thick glasses when his intercom buzzed.
He sat silently without moving to answer. His official title was that of president, just like the American, but he privately ordered his subordinates to call him Chairman, a title he vastly preferred to President. Its association with the great Mao was in keeping with his power, he thought. The buzz came again from the intercom.
“Yes,” he snapped angrily into the infernal device. He had left instructions with his personal secretary that he not be disturbed.
“The vice chairman of the National People’s Congress and General Guo Boxiong, executive vice chairman of the Central Military Commission, are here to see the chairman,” said his squeaky-voiced personal assistant.
“Very well. Send them in.”
The massive double doors were opened by two Chinese army sergeants. The two men stepped inside the large office and made their way, hats in hand, toward the large and empty desk.
“Vice Chairman Zhaoguo Wang, General Guo, to what do I owe the pleasure?” the fat old man asked as he folded his hands on top of the polished desk.
“The situation on the surface of the Moon, Mr. President,” answered Wang.
The chairman looked angrily at the second most powerful man in China. His scowl was meant to send fear into the much smaller, younger man. His use of the title “President” was meant to cause his temper to rise.
“And what would concern you about the mission?”
“We have made our protests well known. And now we are prepared to take our concerns directly to the ruling body of the movement.”
“Is that so,” he said, as a knock sounded at the doors. He didn’t have to answer as his assistant brought in a silver service tea set.
“May I offer you gentlemen some tea?” he asked, not offering them a seat before his desk.
“We are not here for tea. We are here to make you aware of certain… changes in policy concerning our military preparedness, and our request for cooperation with the Western powers in regards to the recent events in our seas and the continent of Antarctica.”
As the assistant placed a cup in front of the chairman, he glanced up at the two men, and then just as quickly poured the tea. He turned and left the room.
The chairman leaned forward and placed the teacup in both of his aging hands, then blew on its contents.
“So, I assume you have bought into this ridiculous plan of the Americans and their lackeys in Europe, the fear of a fairy tale long gone cold?”
“The evidence they have produced is valid. Our military scientists have verified all aspects of the forwarded documents,” Wang said, watching the old man blow on his tea.