Flypaper: A Novel Page 8

  The general stared at Logan with distaste. “I am busy. The only reason you’re here is because of my idle curiosity as to why you asked to see me.”

  Logan took a deep breath. “I’ve been asked by the premier to relay a message to you. Evidently, you’ve refused to communicate with him.”

  “There’s nothing left to say. Zhao Zemin has betrayed the people. China needs a leader who understands we must join the nations of the world if we’re to achieve our potential.”

  “That leader, obviously, being you.”

  “It will be my task to return control to the people. Someone has to lead the nation until order is restored.” He waved a hand. “Power is of little interest to me. I think you know me well enough to believe that. Neither is revenge. The premier will be allowed to go back to his artwork and his other interests. He might make a passable professor at the university. As a leader, he’s out of his depth. Now, as I said, I have a busy day. What is your message?”

  “There’s an unusual sickness spreading in Beijing. Quite serious. The premier asks for your help. He wants you to use the army to encircle the city and establish a quarantine zone. He believes it’s the only way to contain the disease and keep it from spreading across the country.”

  The general stared at him with incredulity. “A most devious man, our Great Leader.”

  “Sir?”

  “Tell me. Did you see any evidence of this disease?”

  “I was only in the city briefly and then was taken by aircraft to the premier’s residence. I had no opportunity.”

  “Did you see any evidence of panic in the city as you flew over it?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Did you see any panic or anything out of order at all at the airport?”

  Logan realized where the general was going. Clearly, there was little trust left between him and the premier. With a sigh, he replied, “No sir. I understood they were rapidly quarantining anyone who was sick and trying to keep the entire business as quiet as possible.”

  “That, at least, does not surprise me. So, what have we? The premier picks my ex-son-in-law to deliver a personal message. He wants me to disperse my forces into small units all around the city, so he can then overcome them one by one with his smaller police units.”

  “I’m sorry, general. All I can tell you is I felt he was sincere.”

  “If there was anything so disastrous going on, where do you think evidence of panic might first appear?”

  Logan swallowed hard. “At the airport.”

  “And you saw nothing?”

  He shook his head. Could he have been so easily manipulated? The possibility he was a pawn in this high-stakes game made him angry. He stood up.

  “If that will be all, general. I have someplace else I need to be. I apologize for taking up your time. I hope you will give my regards to Mei-Li.” He hesitated. “She is well?”

  General Zhou stood. “I haven’t seen her in several weeks. She’s staying with friends in Beijing. I’ll tell her you asked after her.” There was a hint of sadness in his eyes. “You may not believe this, Eric, but I was glad when you married my daughter. I always hoped if someone of my own flesh and blood chose to marry a foreigner, it might be one I could respect. I know you have a true love for China. I wish you well.” He extended his hand.

  Logan took it and held it firmly. “Thank you, sir. I don’t know if I’ve been lied to in this matter. It was certainly not my intention to participate in any sort of ruse planned by the premier.”

  General Zhou nodded. “I believe you. Take care of yourself, Eric.”

  Logan was thoroughly disgusted. He’d made a fool of himself. The more he thought about it, the more what Zhao Zemin had told him seemed like a pack of lies. Of course, if there was any sort of disease on the scale he’d been told of, it would have leaked out. All governments were a sieve, and China’s was one of the worst. The internal conflict in the country over the past decade as the people tasted capitalism and a bit of freedom had made the vaunted secrecy of Beijing a thing of the past. And once the word was out, the airport would have been the very first place it would show, as those in the know hurried to escape. Yet there’d been nothing but the usual, dedicated customs men going about their jobs. He was tired, and wanted nothing more to do with the leadership.

  Outside the front doors of the general’s building, he could see the two men the premier had sent, waiting for him by the car. He pushed the door open and strode quickly down the steps.

  As he passed them, he said, “You may tell the premier the general has turned down his request. I’ll make my own way from here on.”

  The men exchanged looks. These were not their orders. One of them grabbed Eric’s arm. “You must return with us,” he said.

  Logan turned the man’s arm inside-out, forcing him to the ground. He cried out in pain. The second man fumbled beneath his jacket. Before he could produce his firearm, Logan pulled the man on the ground headfirst into the car, knocking him unconscious. He kicked the second man on the side of one leg and struck him with a lightning-quick fist. The gun went flying and the man collapsed.

  It all happened quickly, but several of the general’s men who also stood guard at the entrance ran forward and surrounded him, guns leveled. Then a window above opened and the commander’s head appeared.

  “Release him,” he ordered, and the men lowered their weapons. “You don’t seem to make friends easily,” he said to Eric with a smile.

  “Sorry for the disturbance, sir. They wanted me to return to the premier, but I have plans of my own.”

  “So—be on your way, then. Why don’t you take your friends’ car?” He smiled and the window shut.

  He ought to be well on his way to the Tarim dig by now, Eric thought grimly. But somehow the little car he’d commandeered seemed to steer itself in the opposite direction, toward Beijing.

  It was madness. Once the general let the premier’s men go, they’d be looking for him. Perversely, he almost wished they might find him. He still seethed at the thought he’d been used so transparently. He’d never had much respect for Premier Zhao, but what he felt at the moment was pure loathing. He couldn’t leave it alone. He had to know if he’d been lied to.

  There was no way he could get close to the premier, of course. Zemin was much too closely guarded. But he could enter the city and see for himself if there were any signs of sickness or panic.

  Driving across the parched North China Plain, he passed through one of the most densely populated regions on Earth. It boasted 65 percent of China’s agriculture and only 24 percent of its water. Because only about a third of China’s major cities had sewage treatment plants, 70 percent of the country’s rivers were severely polluted. He could have driven a hundred miles from Beijing in any direction and never crossed a healthy river. Many legendary rivers—the Zhi, Ming, Sha, Anyang, and Huai—that showed as blue lines on the map were now almost bone dry.

  Logan knew many of these rivers had been dammed, diverted, or pumped dry and were gone forever. The Chinese knew it, too. They’d begun planting wheat and vegetables and building large polyethylene greenhouses on the river flood plains. Some locals had even installed heavy equipment in the baked river bottoms in order to mine sand for the country’s fanatical construction boom.

  The 250 million thirsty people living on the North China Plain were draining water tables at the rate of ten feet a year and had even begun to invest in cloud seeding. Using aircraft, balloons, and even rockets and artillery shells, they fired huge amounts of rainmaking chemicals into passing clouds. As if the country needed more chemicals raining down from the skies to join those pouring out of factories, Eric thought with disgust. Different localities fought amongst themselves, claiming clouds were being intercepted upwind, their precious moisture stolen.

  This was the landscape he drove through. China’s inability to protect itself from the industrialized world during the last century and a half had given the nation a deeply felt desire to regai
n fuqiang, or wealth and power. This urge to restore Chinese greatness had led to Promethean efforts like the enormous Yangtze River Water Transfer Project, designed to shift the increasingly polluted water of the Yangtze northward. It would introduce a whole new host of toxic pollutants to the breadbasket of China.

  Eric’s ten years at the embassy had made him familiar with such problems. One thing the country didn’t need in addition, he reflected grimly, was an epidemic. If there were any justice in the world, China would be spared that additional catastrophe.

  He passed through the suburb of Xiaolang Shan and took one of the five ring roads that encircled the capital. The streets and people seemed calm. He didn’t see any unrest and certainly no panic. He approached the Yi Zhuang suburb and exited the ring road heading into Hong Qiao Market. He shopped here often and knew his way about the many confusing byways. Still concerned there might be a police alert out for him, he parked the car in as inconspicuous a spot as he could find and entered the market on foot.

  Again, he saw no indication that anything was out of the ordinary. The market was busy as usual and he stopped to purchase some fruit at a stand. He asked the vendor, an elderly man with a Fu Manchu mustache, if there was any news in the city.

  The old fellow simply laughed uproariously, probably at Eric’s accent, though he spoke much better than most foreigners. It was a common enough response and he’d long since learned not to take offense. He smiled and nodded, then moved along. He paused at several more stands, observing the people. If they were in the beginning stages of a citywide panic, they were hiding their distress surprisingly well. He became more and more certain the premier had been lying to him.

  Suddenly, a woman’s voice called out. “My God! Eric, is that you?”

  He turned and watched as his ex-wife approached from across the street. He could still feel a tightness in his body at her beauty. She wore her trademark black pants suit with a bright scarf wrapped around her neck. Very chic.

  When she reached him, he bent down and kissed her on the cheek. “It’s good to see you, Mei-Li. Your father told me you were in the city, but I didn’t know where. This is a bit of a miracle running into you.”

  “Oh, nonsense. We always shopped here, and it’s natural we might both show up some day.” She pushed back her hair with a gesture so familiar, it made his heart tug. He’d known the split was the right thing for both of them, but that didn’t make the loss of the exquisite sex they’d enjoyed any easier. Mei-Li had attended school in London and spoke perfect English. Better than his own, he sometimes thought.

  “But how did you see my father? He’s hard to get near just now.” She leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “He will soon depose the premier, you know—and good riddance to that useless pseudo-intellectual. You should have stayed with me, Eric. Think how powerful you’d be in the new order.”

  He smiled. “Isn’t it dangerous for you to be in the city? What if the premier decided to take you prisoner as a bargaining chip?”

  She laughed delightedly. “Oh Eric, I am not so important. Besides, Beijing is a big city, in case you didn’t know. Only the friends I’m staying with know I’m here.”

  “I hope so. Word travels fast in this city.” He hesitated, staring at her. She looked different somehow. More tired, he thought. Almost a bit haggard. He couldn’t remember her ever looking anything but drop-dead gorgeous.

  “How’s single life agreeing with you?” he asked.

  “Oh, I am much in demand. Wealthy young businessmen are dying for an English-speaking Chinese woman, especially a divorcee. That’s very risqué in China, you know. Very exciting for some Chinese men.”

  Eric felt himself relax. He’d known Mei-Li would land on her feet.

  “Walk a ways with me?” he asked.

  She nodded and slipped her tiny arm in his.

  “You didn’t tell me why you saw my father.”

  “The premier asked me to deliver a message to him.”

  She raised an eyebrow.

  He sighed. “It’s complicated. Tell me something. Have you heard anything about people getting sick in the city?”

  She seemed to grab his arm a little tighter. “I have heard something about this,” she said slowly. “I’m friends with the minister of health, Wang Bingua. He doesn’t like to talk about it, but I sense he is worried.”

  Eric tensed. “Worried about what? What on earth are we talking about here?”

  She shrugged. “I only know there are some people who have become sick. And there is a rumor that as soon as it happens, they’re sent to a special hospital where they are quarantined. I think maybe it’s avian flu.”

  So, perhaps the premier had only been exaggerating, not lying outright, Eric thought. Avian flu might be considered serious enough for quarantine, though there’d been such outbreaks in the past and no one had ever talked of shutting down the whole city. On the other hand, the entire business might have been fabricated, right down to setting up a fake quarantine hospital in order to make the story more believable for the general.

  Politicians! He’d worked with them most of his adult life. They could be the most devious creatures on God’s Earth.

  “Do you still go dancing at that little club we went to?” he asked.

  “I’m a very good dancer,” she replied. “You, on the other hand, were atrocious. I hope you’re not going to ask me to go dancing with you.”

  “Perish the thought.”

  He turned slightly as they went round a corner and noticed a man behind them who didn’t move quite quickly enough to feign interest in a vendor’s stall. They were being followed.

  Mei-Li saw his eyes and said, “Yes, I have a tail. It only started today, a short while ago. I didn’t want to tell you. You would only worry.”

  “Mei-Li! Of course I’m worried. You must get out of the city. For your father’s sake, if not your own. He would be helpless if the premier decided to use you.”

  “I won’t leave my home,” she said stubbornly. “I love Beijing and I hate politics. I don’t care who is in charge. It’s always a man. You wouldn’t understand. Having a man always in charge is the same as having an alien . . . if you are a woman.”

  “Look, at least let me do one thing. You say you only noticed this man today, is that right?”

  She nodded.

  “Maybe he doesn’t know where you’re staying. Will you let me . . . ask . . . this fellow not to follow you?”

  She smiled wickedly. “That is another thing men can do that women cannot. All right, I agree. It’ll be fun.”

  “Thank you. Maybe it won’t help, but if he hasn’t determined where you live, it might take the authorities a long time to find you by accident again.”

  He leaned down and kissed her, this time on the mouth, and he lingered for a moment, remembering.

  “That was nice,” she said, when he released her finally. “We did that part well, didn’t we?”

  “Very well.” His voice was tight. “Okay, listen. I want you to go to your friends’ at once and stay out of sight for a couple of days. Can you do that much at least? Just don’t come to the damned market. Go somewhere else to shop.”

  She pouted. “I love Hong Qiao Market.”

  He rolled his eyes. “This is all I can do for you, Mei-Li. I’ve got another job and I’m already overdue for it.”

  “Where?”

  “I can only tell you it’s in the west.”

  He noted the position of the man out of the corner of his eye. “Remember what I said, Mei-Li. Keep out of sight for a while. Now, go down this alley here and leave the area as fast as you can. I’ll delay this fellow long enough for you to get away.”

  “Thank you, Eric.” She hesitated. “It was good to see you. I think I shall always love you . . . a little.”

  And then she was gone, down the alley. Eric also slipped into the alley and waited for the tail to arrive.

  When he did, Eric grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. He walke
d the man over to a bench and made him sit down beside him.

  “What are you doing?” he protested. “Let me go.”

  “Why are you following the woman I was with?” he asked.

  “I don’t know what you mean. I was following no one.”

  Eric didn’t expect the man to tell him. If he worked for the premier, he would be more scared of failure than anything else. He glanced at his watch, then studied the passersby who looked at them a bit warily, for their stance on the bench was obviously uncomfortable.

  The man turned sullen, no doubt trying to determine how he was going to explain losing Mei-Li. Eric held onto him firmly for twenty minutes, long enough for Mei-Li to be well clear of the area.

  “Do you speak English?” he asked in Chinese.

  The man shook his head no.

  “I would like you to deliver a message for me to the premier.”

  “I don’t know the premier,” he said, but only half-heartedly.

  “It’s an important message, and I will call to make sure he received it.” This was a bluff. He had no idea how to contact Premier Zhao, outside of embassy circles. “If he doesn’t receive it, he’ll be unhappy because it’s an important message. It will be in your interest to give it to him.”

  The man said nothing, but Eric felt certain he would deliver it rather than risk disfavor.

  “You will give the message to the premier in English.”

  “I told you I do not speak English.”

  “We will sit here until you memorize the sounds.”

  For the next several minutes Eric repeated the message and made the man say it until he got it right. Then he sent him on his way.

  The message was simple. “Eric Logan says you are a horse’s ass.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  LOGAN AND KESSLER stood in front of the Tarim site, supervising the unloading of two truckloads of supplies destined for the new dig. The road ended at the Tarim burial. From there, everything had to be transported by horseback to the more remote family group site.