He caught a ride with a college student in a van, ending up in White Plains, Maryland, where he spent the night in a cheap motel. Near checkout time, he walked to a nearby diner. There Tsing ate a meal of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and creamed corn. For dessert he enjoyed a slice of chocolate cake and a cup of coffee.
A death-row inmate could not have ordered a better meal.
When he finished the meal Tsing walked out to the side of the road and began hitchhiking south on 1-301. A series of rides, the last in the back of a farm truck, brought Tsing to Bel Alton, Maryland, by late afternoon. Checking carefully to see if he was being followed, he slipped into the woods and made his way to a cove on the Potomac River.
Tonight Tsing was due to be extracted.
That same afternoon, Taft and Martinez stopped for coffee in a cafe just off 1-95. Ordering their coffees to go, Taft grabbed several sugars and two creamers and tossed them in the sack. Once back inside the car he handed the sack to Martinez.
"There's cream and sugar in the bottom of the sack. Why don't you hand me mine first, though," Taft said as he started the car and drove slowly through the parking lot. Martinez handed one of the black coffees to Taft, then dug around in the sack. "You didn't get any stirrers."
Taft set his coffee in the cupholder, then reached in his coat pocket and withdrew a folding knife, which he flashed open with a fluid motion. "Here, stir your coffee with my knife."
Exiting 1-95 for 1-17, Taft reached for his coffee in the cupholder. He snapped off the lid, tossed it in the rear of the car, and sipped the steaming liquid. Taft engaged the cruise control just as they drove past Camp A.P. Hill, then settled down in the drivers seat.
"I have some vacation time coming up. I think I'll put in a request for time off," Taft said as he blew across the cup to cool the coffee.
"Is this your retaliation for being pulled from the Einstein mission?" Martinez asked. Taft exited onto Interstate 301. The drive would take them through Port Royal north to the turnoff for Potomac Beach. He turned and looked at Martinez.
"Not really, though I am pissed off about that. It just seems stupid to me for us to be assigned to inspect construction projects. What do either of us know about construction or electronics or advanced sonar?"
"Not much," Martinez agreed, "but I do know one thing about this system."
"What's that?"
"It's got to be one of the only times in the history of the United States procurement that a project has been finished ahead of time."
"What is the contract completion date?" Taft asked as he took another sip of coffee.
"October 15th," Martinez noted.
"Two and a half weeks ahead of schedule," Taft said as he turned off toward Potomac Beach and began to look for the dirt road leading to the site. "Will wonders never cease." Commander Wright telephoned Benson forty-two minutes later. The Carondelet is anchored just north of the middle of the Potomac River near Point Lookout. Do you want me to have a cutter deployed to the area?"
Benson thought for a moment. "Okay. Can you keep your ship out of sight for now?"
"We can bring a cutter down from Baltimore and have it anchor around the point just out of view," Wright answered. "That way, if you need it, it's right there."
"That would be perfect, Commander. I'll order a few of my men down from Washington to observe the Carondelet from shore. For now, I just want to play a waiting game."
"It will take a couple of hours to move the cutter into position," Wright explained. "I'll call you back when she's in place."
Benson reached for the phone. "Have three agents drive to Point Lookout and set up surveillance on a ship in the Potomac named the Carondelet," Benson said to the deputy chief of operations. "I'm going to fax you pictures of the vessel now."
"You want a secure phone link to the observation team?" the deputy asked.
"Yes, and have them report to me every fifteen minutes," Benson said. On the lee side of the Carondelet, a canvas awning was stretched from the superstructure to an outboard-powered tender in the water ten feet away. Now safe from prying eyes, the Chinese mini-sub was lowered into the water by crane. The crew manning the minisub squeezed into the small opening at the top of the vessel. Once safely on board, the submarine pilot ran through a quick systems check. Finding all the systems functioning properly, he lowered the hatch, locked it in place, and began the slow journey upriver to extract Tsing.
Slipping through the water at a speed barely above that of a walking man, the submarine fought its way against a stiff current. Peering from a glass bubble in the bow of the submarine, Chief Pilot Ho Pei saw little of interest. The water in the Potomac was murky. Once, shortly after they left the Carondelet, the current had slammed a turtle against the glass dome. And just as quickly, the current swept the reptile away. The small submarine lacked advanced navigation aids, and the route to Tsing had been plotted into a handheld GPS unit. The information as to their location was relayed to Pei by his navigator.
"Way point," the navigator said in Chinese, stirring Pei from his daydream. Pei glanced at the sheet taped to the wall of the submarine. Checking his compass with great care, he steered another course heading.
The interior of the submarine was cramped. Pei sat upright in a small bucket seat, watching the water pass outside the glass bubble. Behind him, where the body of the submarine widened, were two seats facing to the rear. One held his navigator. The other one was for Tsing. Like a lumbering tortoise trying to find home, the tiny submarine continued upriver.
The setting sun painted the sky a fiery red as the crew of the Carondelet settled in to wait for the submarine s return. They had no idea they were being watched from shore. They had no idea a noose was being closed around the neck of the river. As the Chinese mini-sub was making the journey up the Potomac River, Dick Allbright, Sandra Miles, and Chuck Smoot sat in chairs across from General Benson's desk. Allbright was briefing Benson.
"I just received this report, General, and thought you should hear it immediately. Yesterday Agent Miles was dispatched to the Rio Grande Valley in Texas. She was investigating the theft of a vat of oil-eating microbes from a laboratory," Allbright said.
'Through a roundabout series of circumstances, she believes she has uncovered evidence that indicates the theft of the microbes was a contract job paid for by someone of Chinese nationality. Once she explained her findings, I suspected it might be tied to the Einstein case. I thought it best you hear about it right now."
"What led you to the conclusion the microbes were stolen by the Chinese, Agent Miles?" Benson asked.
"My evidence is spotty, I admit, sir. It comes from one of the burglars, who is an admitted drug user. He identified the man that hired him as Chinese from the type of cigarettes the man smoked."
Benson smiled. "I guess it does pay to quit smoking," he said and leaned forward.
"What do you make of all this, Dick?"
"It ties in nicely with the trouble in the Middle East, sir. The Saudis are keeping a close rein on information about their troubles. However, a few hours ago the NSA intercepted radio transmissions from an oil-field worker to his superiors that seems to support the hypothesis that one of their fields was poisoned by a man-made biological."