Wu rapidly got dressed and nearly skipped down the stairs to the hotel business center, leaving behind the depressed reality of his cancer, feeling a renewed energy and recharged mind. At this time of night, the hotel lobby was empty, not even the doormen were present. He scanned his room key into the Business Center and sat down at one of the three computers available. Looking at the screen, he was glad he did not have to enter his name or room number.
The main home page of the computer was of the Sunshine Hotel, but he quickly went to Yahoo.com. He first logged into his personal email, searching for the medical records the nurse had sent. Wu opened up the email, and then the attachments. For the first time since being diagnosed, he was able to read the reports from the doctors, review the blood work, and see the images from the CAT scan. He saw the tumors from the images, felt that he saw enough, and quickly closed out of the email to focus on his new idea. This electrifying notion of his had merit and to him, the plan was as clear as any idea he had ever generated. Wu decided that after sending this email he was about to write, it would be the beginning of the end.
Scrolling around the page, he saw the Yahoo purple envelope icon and clicked it. That brought him to a sign-in page, with the option to “Sign up for a new account.” Wu filled in all the boxes and drop down menus for an account, making up all of data required, from name and address, to phone number. Not a lick of the data was accurate as he quietly typed in the spaces, but it was exactly how Wu wanted it. The email account was free, established quickly, and the plan about to be hatched would get the point across to Ford.
The new Yahoo email account, registration to a fake sister, Ang Lee, of Beijing, China, was established. Wu opened up the new email icon, and began typing his email in English.
To: Ford.Stevens267111@yahoo.com
From: Ang.Lee369369369@yahoo.com
Subject: Visit to US via U.S. Consulate, Chengdu, China
Dear Ford,
My brother Wu recommended I contact you regarding an upcoming visit to the U.S. I was wondering if you could help me arrange a visit to the U.S. Consulate in Chengdu. My visit is scheduled for tomorrow where I will make arrangements for a Visa for tourism to the U.S.
Please reply back soonest.
Thank you.
Ang Lee
Wu read it to ensure it was basic enough for Ford to understand, then hit send. The decision was made, whether Ford received it or not, that tomorrow he was going to make a special visit. Tomorrow, he would ferry the Devil Dragon to Jinniu Qu, Chengdu Shi, Sichuan Sheng Air Base per the flight schedule, then get over to the U.S. Consulate as fast as he could for the special visit.
Wu and Liu got the jet safely over to Jinniu Qu, Chengdu Shi, Sichuan Sheng Air Base for a pre-sunrise landing and were mission complete for the day already. Wu hurriedly changed out of his flight suit and put on his civilian street clothes to go over to the Chengdu Garden City Hotel. He was able to get a ride from the Base to the hotel, check-in at the desk along with Liu, then headed back out quickly and quietly. Before departing his hotel room, he popped some more of the pain killers the doctor gave him.
In front of the hotel, he took out his smart phone and opened his Ulmon Maps App. The directions told him it was a 42 minute walk for a 3.2 kilometers distance. He looked at the digital map, saw the turn off Zhihui Street to Renmin Street, then cross the Jinjiang River, and the Consulate was down on the left. Great… crossing a river… water. Wu was dragging energy wise, but bought a tea, and started his trek.
He worked up a sweat walking down to the U.S. Consulate building, and arrived outside at the guard shack. A smaller, bullet-proof shack that was separate from the Consulate, was the entrance to obtain entry to the building. The Consulate looked like any other building in the city, but was surrounded by cement and plastic barriers, a large black iron fence, cameras, and armed guards from the U.S. Marine Corps and the Chengdu City Police. Wu was confident there were also plainclothes Chinese government and intelligence officials around, but it did not bother him, as he was hell bent on his mission. Plus, he’s been to plenty of Consulates before to arrange visits.
Wu was familiar with the Chengdu Police Department because of their recent active recruiting campaign. Their Department has posters made, inspired from recent Hong Kong action movies, seeking former military officers familiar with tactics, Kung Fu, crossbows, and guns, and sought people who had ‘toughness’ and ‘bravery.’ The posters made the pilots in Wu’s former squadron laugh.
Wu entered the guard shack after showing his picture ID, and passed through the metal detector. There were a number of cameras around the room, video screens, some sort of tactical gear in tall metal cabinets, and an array of land line phones behind the counters. Higher on the wall towards the ceiling was a set of framed set of color photos, consisting of the President of the United States, the U.S. Secretary of State, the U.S. Ambassador to China, and the Consul General of Chengdu.
“Hello. I would like to fill out the paper request to obtain a Visa to visit the United States,” Wu announced to the guard.
“Yes, sir. Please go through the door, and inside to the right. You will see the window where you can pick a number for a Foreign Service officer. The line looks pretty good, sir… not long in waiting time,” the guard told him.
“Yes. Thank you.”
Wu walked in, confident, that he would once again fill out paperwork for another trip to America, a place he had visited so many times in his life. There was the trip to New York City, the visit to Los Angeles and Las Vegas, and the stunning trip to Yellowstone National Park, always attending with the Stevens family. To Wu, coming into a Consulate, yet again, would not raise any alarming red flags by wondering eyes of the Chinese government. Even if they checked the citizen database for historical records, what Wu was doing was completely normal modus operandi.
Wu sat looking at the television playing Titanic, one of the highest-grossing films of all time in China, while waiting for his number to be called. It continued to be a favorite of the Chinese people.
BING-BING… NOW SERVING… WINDOW NUMBER FIVE.
Wu heard the announcement over the loudspeaker, and walked over to Bay number five. Sitting behind the window at a counter was a member of the U.S. State Department, a Foreign Service Officer. A young man of about 25-years old, Lance Monterey, already bald with black Oakley eyeglasses and wearing a navy blue suit, Wu could tell he was very attentive to the customer base in China. Wu sat down in the seat in front of him, and the Bay was designed to provide privacy from the waiting room, as well as the bays on either side.
“Hello, sir. I am Lance Monterey, a Vice Consul at the Consulate. How may I help you?” asked Lance, speaking in Mandarin.
Wu had already taken out of his jacket pocket a handwritten note, generated when he was in the hotel room. It was written on the hotel stationary with black ink, and folded two times over into a square. Wu had his hand on it, rubbing, for so long that it was warm and clammy to the touch.
“I speak English. Hello. I am a frequent visitor to the United States as a tourist, and I wish to return. I am here to complete Visa paperwork,” Wu told him.