He went to his computer and opened the message. Yang was shocked to learn the emperor was not at Li Shan, more so when he saw where he had been taken. The site was marked on the map in the book. When Colonel Wu returned, Yang would send him there.
His thoughts turned to the plan. The American holiday was close. It was time to activate Summer Wind, the operation that would change the destiny of China forever. A new Dynasty would be born.
Yang picked up his phone and began calling the others. Mixed in with inconsequential conversation was the same message each time. Spring has ended, summer is upon us. The planes would remain on the ground unless he released them. The tanks were ready. The submarines with their missiles would be his. So would the ICBMs targeted on the West. That would keep the Americans and other foreign dogs at bay. The railroads would shut down. Divisions commanded by members of the Society and trusted officers under them would occupy Beijing.
He'd arrest the entire Politburo Standing Committee of the Party and the President, cut off the head of the current leadership and replace it with himself. China would become the most powerful nation that had ever existed and step into her rightful place. Yang was certain the First Emperor would understand his ambition, if he were alive today.
For no reason at all he remembered the time he'd broken the big ceramic bowl his mother brought out for special occasions. It was the one painted with blue herons standing in the reeds, slim and handsome, like her. He'd been what, eight years old? He'd only wanted to fill it with water and sail his toy boat. It had slipped from his small hands and shattered into a thousand pieces on the tiles of the kitchen floor.
His mother had run into the room. When she'd seen what he had done, she'd begun shrieking and hitting him. She'd hit him again and again while he'd screamed, cursing and beating him with the heavy wooden paddle she used in the big cooking wok until it broke, until a neighbor had run in and pulled her away from him.
He'd never forgotten the feeling of powerlessness and shame. Well, it was different now. As to his mother, she had already paid for his humiliation. Yang had seen to that.
Yang opened a cabinet of carved teakwood on his desk. He pushed on a decorative dragon and watched the hidden compartment spring open. He took out a pipe, a lamp and a small ball of sticky opium. He went to the couch, lit the lamp and lay back on one arm. He lit the pipe and drew the blissful smoke deep into his lungs, drifting off into a pleasant dream of a vast, blue plain with endless rows of people kowtowing before him.
Emperor.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Selena and Nick were in the basement range at the Project.
"What the hell was that about upstairs?" she said.
"You heard what I said. You haven't ever done anything like this, jumps or not. You sure as hell haven't jumped at high altitude."
"You don't think I can handle it."
He looked at her. "You want the truth? No, I don't. I don't want you to get killed. I think you could probably handle anything you're trained to do. You're not trained for this."
"I guess you'd better start training, then."
Carter saw it was a battle he couldn't win. First Harker, now her. Mules had nothing on women when it came to stubborn. Megan had been the same way, when she'd made up her mind about something.
"All right." He ran two man-sized silhouette targets down range.
"Let's start with our sidearm. What kinds of pistols are you familiar with?"
Her voice was neutral. Truce. "A .22 revolver when I was learning. Then I went to a .357 Colt Python. After I got used to the recoil, my instructor gave me a Glock. Either automatic or a revolver, I've shot both."
He laid two pistols on the table. He took one, ejected the empty magazine and pulled back the slide. "What's your first rule?"
"Mmm. Make sure it's not loaded. Or is."
"Right, and make sure it's not pointed somewhere it shouldn't be." He let the slide go forward.
"This pistol is a little heavy but it helps with the recoil. It was developed for US Special Operations Command, SOCOM. It's a Heckler-Koch like mine, chambered in .45 ACP. A lot of stopping power and made for close quarters, although it has good accuracy up to thirty yards or so with the laser pointer. That's this unit, under the barrel."
As he slipped into the routine of instructor he began to relax. He showed her how to turn the laser on. He pointed down range, centering the red dot on one of the targets.
"Where the dot is, that's where the bullet goes. Always aim for a center body shot, none of that stuff you see in the movies. We'll tweak the sights as we go along, so you'll be sure to hit whatever you're shooting at. This is the de-cocker lever. The safety is ambidextrous. You can carry this pistol cocked and locked."
"Maybe we won't have to shoot anything."
"Maybe. Show me your stance."
Selena took up her stance, a good hold, both hands, body crouched and turned to present a minimal target. Someone had taught her well. He made a minor adjustment to her elbow.
"Good stance. Let's load the magazines."
They filled four 15 round magazines and put on ear protection and goggles, niceties non-existent in the field.
"Lock and load." He inserted a magazine and Selena did the same, then they racked the slides.
"Aim for the center of the body, and fire when you're ready."
She fired, then again. She squeezed off the rest of the magazine. Carter followed suit. They laid the guns down on the bench and he pulled back the targets. Her target had a neat group of holes in the center.
They spent another hour with the H-K and he was satisfied. It was a relief. She'd said she could shoot, but he'd heard that from people who couldn't hit an elephant standing next to them.
"Now we have another toy. You don't have any experience with these."
He took out another H-K, the MP-5N submachine gun.
"This is our primary weapon. They only weigh around eight pounds and they've got a lot of firepower. This is an H-K too, developed for the Navy Seals. It has a safety just like the .45, so you can carry it ready to go. Ours will be chambered for .40 Smith, which gives us more bang for the buck than the regular nine millimeter. Thirty round magazine, snaps in here, charge like this." He showed her how.
"It has a folding retractable stock. You can carry it short or use it as an assault rifle." He pulled the stock out until it locked in place. "Let's try that first, it's easier to get used to."
They loaded up. He showed her how the selector switch worked and had her shoot in semi-auto, then moved her to full auto fire. She got the knack of getting off a three round burst with ease. Then they tried it without the stock extended. That was harder, but Selena picked up the trick of control.
He was impressed. She hit what she shot at. He hoped she wouldn't have to do it when someone was shooting back. That wasn't anything like this. When the adrenaline kicked in, all the fancy target shooting went out the window and you missed eight times out of ten. It wasn't the same.
He showed her how to clear a jam, but she didn't need to know how to field strip her piece. They were only going to be in Tibet for a short time. Ronnie and he would maintain the weapons.
"We'll also have these," he said, "but you won't be carrying them. Still, I thought you should know how they work." He opened a box of M-67 grenades.
"This is a fragmentation grenade. We're not going to practice with them here."
He smiled, but she didn't get the joke. The seriousness of what they were doing was sinking in. Pistols were one thing, machine guns and grenades, another.
"This is a safety clip. You have to remove that first. It keeps the lever down if the pin is accidentally pulled."
He mimicked removing the clip.