Beijing, China
The communications center, in the Great Hall of the People, was far below the street level of Tiananmen Square: a cluttered, concrete-walled room filled with masses of American-made communications gear. The air conditioner was set to a year-round setting. There was the hum of the equipment, a minimum of hushed conversation and no other sound except for the clicking of many fingertips across keyboards beneath rows of monitors. During the Cold War, China and the United States had jointly operated a string of electronic intelligence-gathering stations along what had been the Soviet border. The stations were furnished with American equipment and Chinese technicians. Enormous quantities of that equipment had been diverted to this subbasement, unknown to most of the thousands of people who daily worked in or visited the Great Hall.
General Chow stood with Huang Peng, the minister of defense, near a wall dominated by a bank of world-time chronometers. Technicians tended the rows of equipment with the precision of ingrained routine.
"We have been intercepting an enormous amount of North Korean radio traffic," Chow informed the defense minister. "The space shuttle remains missing, but they have escalated their search."
"What of the American communications?"
"I regret to say we have not yet been able to break their frequency code."
Frown lines creased Huang's gaunt features. "I was not aware such a problem existed. We have access to America's satellite positioning intelligence."
"Unfortunately the American transmissions are being circuited through one of the new satellites, an extremely sophisticated device that alters transmitting frequencies in a random fashion every few seconds."
Huang nodded. "I see. Is there no way to break the code?"
"Perhaps if the Americans command their satellite's computer to synchronize the receivers."
"And what is the likelihood of that?"
"I cannot offer a guess." Chow avoided the minister's glare of disapproval, shifting his gaze instead to the row of technicians hunched over their computer terminals against the opposite wall. "But I do understand the urgency of this matter. We are doing the best that we can."
"And what of our communications?"
"Our communications are secure."
"Then apprise General Li that time has become of the absolute essence," said Huang. "He is our only hope of locating the shuttle before the North Koreans. Instruct the general to intensify his search."
North Korea
Chai had posted sentries at intervals around the crash site. The warlord's group had traveled openly and brazenly through several villages on their way here, and word would have spread. It would be widely known in the region that a sizeable force of the warlord's "army" was passing through, and everyone gave them a wide berth. No one came around, curious. In Liberty's shadow, men were securing the last of the stolen equipment upon their imported llamas, in preparation for departure. Dusk came quickly at this elevation, casting the mountains in cold shadows that lengthened and widened, evaporating the warmth of day.
Kate stood several meters away from the looming space shuttle. The shuttle was a towering, majestic monument of modern technology, in stark contrast to the raw, natural surroundings of the clearing where Liberty had crash-landed. A hawk soared high above, basking in the final rays of a sun quickly disappearing beyond craggy peaks to the west. Kate stood in one of the few remaining patches of sunlight. This had been perhaps the most horrific day of her life. She couldn't remember the last time she had slept, yet she was not sleepy. In fact, because of these terrible events, and the contrast of her stark surroundings to the reality she'd expected as an astronaut, all her senses were alive with crystal clarity. From time to time throughout the day, she had cast a glance beyond the activity in and around the Liberty, but she saw no signs of civilians. Not surprising, she reasoned; the locals no doubt lived in fear of these armed, vicious-looking brigands. She had thought several times of the old man, Ahn Chong. She hoped he was all right.
One of the bandits had been assigned as her personal guard for the day, a pimply-faced boy of seventeen or so who stood nearby, an M16 slung on his shoulder, his attention never leaving her.
Chai approached her from the direction of the shuttle. His mouth twitched in the semblance of a smile. "Miss Daniels, you and your fellow captives can rest easy. You may inform them of this when you are reunited with them. The first steps have been taken to return you to your country."
"I wish you had allowed me to communicate with NASA," she said.
His men continued working with alacrity, inspired in equal measure, Kate suspected, by the oncoming frostiness of night, and by the imposing appearance of their leader. Chai exuded an undeniable aura of brute power, and at present it was focused directly on her.
"I never trust women. I need hardly point out that your leading me here was an example of your lack of trustworthiness. You are a foolish, faithless woman. You have betrayed your mission, your crewmates and your country." The precise, Oxford accent dripped with a snide, almost sarcastic, tone. She could not get over how weird it was to hear the cultivated British diction from this ruthless, unshaven, scar-faced outlaw.
Anger flared in her, but she concealed this as best she could. "I thought that I'd already explained myself. I see no choice but to deal with you. At least you are purely motivated by greed. Your motives are not political. I'm no traitor. Commerce is one hell of a better way of getting this resolved than allowing anything to fall into the hands of the North Koreans or the Chinese."
His gaze swept the crash site with satisfaction. His men, with their llamas, had begun moving in a steady line up a steep slope toward the tree line.
"They will find the shuttle, you know," Chai told Kate, "and before much more time passes."
"That's why I'm helping you, and trusting you," she said. "What you've taken from here will be more safe at your fortress than here."
Chai nodded. "It can be defended from there, and kept safe. My demands will be meet accordingly. I will get my money. Your government will respond."
His cockiness finally got to her. "I wouldn't be too sure of that," she said. "As much as I hate to say it, the good old U.S. of A. bureaucracy can be pretty screwed up, and at times, very slow."
"Nevertheless, you and your crewmates will serve my intent. Come now, accompany me. We will wish to make a final inspection before we leave here."
They moved through the length of the shuttle, with the last light of day weakly struggling through the portals, using flashlights to inspect the effect of a day of systematic yet unschooled looting. She accompanied wordlessly, heartbroken at what she saw. Throughout the day, she had remained near Chai's side, had witnessed firsthand his overseeing of the unloading of Liberty. He had required her assistance in explaining the equipment and functions. It was a gut-wrenching experience for her. There had been the hideous, ghoulish sight of the dead crewmembers, Leo and Al, still strapped in their seats, preserved by the frigid temperatures, their expressions of the pain of their final moments still etched across their features. Kate recalled the training she had undergone with these people, the rigorous hardships, the laughing camaraderie of what little time off they'd shared; and the memories stabbed at her heart and wrenched her mind. As she'd promised to do, and feeling guiltier with each passing second, she systematically pointed out for Chai the key pieces of equipment.
The looters were neither careful, nor qualified to perform their tasks. She suspected that much of the equipment stripped from the Liberty was instantly damaged and rendered useless.
Chai instructed his men to remove those items with the drills, screwdrivers and wrenches they'd brought along in the trucks that carried them here. Kate was reminded of seventeenth-century pirates stripping a high-seas vessel of its bounty. They gutted the control panels on the flight deck, and she had shed tears at the sight of the brutes hacking, pulling and cutting at the delicate controls.
She had trained for so long and hard to be in this cockpit for her first and probably only glorious flight into outer space and it had come to this, watching barbarians strip panels, leaving wires and dials dangling, and gaping holes in the console panels. It occurred to her that this was what it must be like to be tied up and watch burglars ransack your home. Chai and Han Ling had ignored her for the most part, smiling their satisfaction, issuing their directives. After a prolonged, strenuous process involving several near-mishaps, the brigands at last succeeded in loading the bulky satellite down onto one of the waiting trucks positioned beside the shuttle. The truck then drove off, accompanied by a full contingent of heavily-armed guards.
The only satisfaction she drew from this state of affairs was her knowledge that much of Liberty's equipment was equipped with destructive devices that had automatically shut down on impact, automatically erasing the hard drives of many, if not all, of the spacecraft's computers.
When they emerged from the shuttle after Chai's final inspection, he glowered at Kate and indicated the main hatch. "Close it now and do it properly. There is much still aboard that is of value. I will post sentries to stand guard here."
Kate clamped shut the main hatch. "And what if the North Koreans or the Chinese show up?"
"In that event, my men will withdraw without making contact. I already have what I want, you see. Now do as you're told."
While pretending to check the adjustments of the closed hatch mechanism, Kate entered with her fingertips a coded series of digits onto the hatch lock's ten-key panel, a code that primed the trigger sequencing for detonation to blow the space orbiter to kingdom come the next time anyone tampered with this hatch. If forcible entry was attempted, anyone in the vicinity of this hatch would be vaporized in an explosion that would shake the earth for miles. Extreme? Well, she told herself, the self-destruct system had been installed; the procedure being followed had been developed for exactly such an unlikely, unimaginable, extreme scenario as this. She saw no alternative. She had saved what she could by getting Chai to remove the most valuable equipment to where it would hopefully be safer than it was here. Her top priority was to prevent what technology that remained onboard Liberty from falling into the possession of enemy states.
She rejoined Chai and Han. The air was fast becoming wintry and inhospitable.
Chai led the way to a truck parked nearby. The truck was top-heavy with tarp-covered electronic equipment taken from the shuttle. A second vehicle right behind it was full of men with their rifles poking outward like antennae.
Kate paused to turn and look up at the towering Liberty, and she recalled its grandeur and majestic appearance before the crash. She hoped that this was not her final sight of it. She then was jarred roughly, almost knocked from her feet, when Han stepped in to ram her roughly in the lower back with the barrel of his rifle, sneering a coarse command in his native tongue. She pivoted instinctively, emotions rising with her. She felt ready to kick this bastard's rifle aside and take him down no matter what the consequences. She'd been pushed that far.
Han had stepped back with surprising adroitness. He stood a few paces back, gesturing with his rifle in the direction of the truck.
Chai laughed and spoke to Han, who lowered his rifle. Chai turned to Kate.
"My apologies. My man is sometimes overzealous in carrying out his duties. Han has a penchant for violence. I see that he has learned from your martial arts demonstration earlier. He's rather nimble when he wants to be, don't you think? So. Do everything I say and cause no trouble, dear lady, I beg of you." He laughed again, harshly. "Everything will then be all right."
"Everything is far from all right," she said. "But I'll be a good girl for now, if your goon doesn't poke me with that rifle again."
Chai did not feel obliged to respond. He trudged onto the waiting truck. At sight of his approach, the driver gunned his engine and switched on the headlights.
Kate continued apace. Han kept a prudent distance from her, but his eyes said that nothing would please him so much as for her to make a break for it so that he could shoot her down on the spot. She disappointed him, realizing in retrospect that lashing out at him had been a reflex fueled solely by pent-up emotions. What the hell, she decided. Life is full of regrets, like her relationship with Trev and the way it was ending, or had already ended, and the dismal fate of Liberty's flight… and revealing perhaps too early the fact that she could defend herself with deadly force.
Trev had taught her Kung Fu, the oldest known technique of fighting. From Kung Fu had evolved all the forms of martial arts, including jujitsu, kendo and aikido. And yet, Trev told her, Westerners knew practically nothing about true Kung Fu. She had been fascinated; had allowed herself to become immersed in its philosophy. And what she learned then, came in handy now. She had learned that, as every person has two sides to his nature, so it was with Kung Fu, that Kung Fu revolved around a philosophy of nonviolence based on the premise that nothing that is violent can be permanent. The dual nature of Kung Fu is leisure and labor, the former consisting of disciplines such as poetry, painting, history and mathematics-subjects of an artistic, educational nature-while the latter consists of instruction in physical combat. The ultimate aim in regard to both is to aspire to the level where one's understanding and practice of the art provide entrance to the spiritual plane. Striding along between Chai and Han, as they approached the truck, she adjusted her breathing, willing herself to relax, and commanding her chi, her inner, intrinsic energy, to rise.
Her study of the metaphysics of Kung Fu had ingrained within her the notion of "yielding to evil," a seeming nonresistance that, when properly applied, served to conquer and destroy evil. If one's strength was much less than one's opponent's, one could defeat that opponent by coordinating one selected purpose with maximum effort, concentrated at the vital time and place. She had to wait. She had to bide her time. She had to wait for the vital moment. Then she would strike, and hope for the best.
They boarded the truck. Chai positioned himself behind the steering wheel, and he gunned the engine to life.
Kate climbed into the cab, and Han followed her. The truck pulled away from the Liberty as the darkening mantle of night laid claim to the surroundings. Chai steered and shifted gears expertly, despite the top-heavy load of equipment they were transporting. The second truck followed. Their headlights cast erratic beams into the gloom. The trucks retraced their route of approach from that morning. It had been a long day. She found herself looking forward to her reunion with Commander Scott and Bob Paxton at Chai's fortress. She hoped the commander's broken leg was being suitably cared for, as Chai had promised if she agreed to cooperate, and she hoped that Paxton would not be a problem with attitude toward her. They construed her as a betrayer of the mission, cooperating with the enemy. Yes, she understood their viewpoint. She felt the same way herself. This caused her some anxiety. She burned with shame at what she had done, no matter how strategic or well-intentioned.
As the road wended its way through the rugged night, Chai never stopped pressing his thigh against hers there in the narrow confines of the truck cab. He would cast sideways glances at her with hungry eyes that traveled across her body, lingering here and there. He would lick his lips, growling deep in his throat, feral and menacing, and a wave of repulsion would course through her.
She had never felt so trapped in her life.
God only knew what could happen next.