The Rising Sea (NUMA Files 15)

“Which would have to be launched from a surface ship or dropped from an aircraft,” Wen said. “So I’ll ask again: how was it not prevented?”

The Admiral took the veiled accusation of malfeasance in stride. “I assure you, comrade, no American aircraft or vessel has entered our zone of control. But an ROV was detected.”

Wen took a deep breath. The Admiral was a friend. He would not have come here in person only to lie. If the security forces had slipped up and allowed an American incursion, he would have hidden it, burned the reports and erased the data tapes to prevent his own embarrassment. “You insist there were no American ships nearby?”

“None.”

>

The answer came to him all at once. He should have known before grilling his old friend. The vehicle was the only clue he really needed: a small submersible, operating without a support vessel in sight. It had to be the NUMA agents who’d flown to Japan for the meeting with the reclusive geologist.

Walter Han had failed to eliminate the Americans, despite his claims to the contrary. Now Wen would see to it himself.

He stood, signaling the end of the meeting. “I appreciate your coming to me, Admiral. I assure you, there’s nothing down there for the Americans to find. That said, my people will look into this breach of our territorial rights and respond accordingly.”

The Admiral stood. “Be careful, Wen. This is not the nation it used to be. With wealth comes power and much wealth has been generated in the last twenty years. The Party is not absolute anymore. Other voices are of equal or greater volume. That is the price of economic success.”

Wen understood the warning. The moguls who’d made great fortunes and those who rode their coattails did not want anything to derail the economic train. They needn’t have worried. If his plan came to fruition, not only would the train keep running but the track ahead would be clear as far as the eye could see.

It would happen, he told himself. But first, he had to eliminate the threat.

26

SHANGHAI HARBOR

PAUL STOOD on the ferry’s top deck, staring at the Shanghai skyline. It was a beautiful city. A modern metropolis, with glittering buildings, high-speed trains and multilane highways. Paul looked forward to exploring it . . . if they ever got there.

“Any idea what’s causing the holdup?” Gamay asked.

They were a mile from the dock, sitting idly in the harbor, as containership after containership passed them in both directions. A pilot had come on board two hours ago, but the ferry had yet to move.

“No,” Paul said. “The engines are still running. I haven’t seen any maintenance crews moving about. Maybe we just have to wait our turn. Shanghai is the busiest port in the world, you know.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” she said. “But I’m getting the sense this isn’t a normal event.”

Paul had to agree. The crowded deck was rife with murmuring and hushed conversations, most prominently among the Chinese passengers who were going home. The Japanese businessmen and the foreign tourists seemed less concerned.

When a patrol boat began moving toward them, every eye on deck focused on it. The lethal-looking vessel was painted battleship gray, armed with multiple guns and missile racks. It flew a military flag.

“Something tells me it’s not the Port Authority,” Gamay said. “What do you say we go back inside and get something to eat?”

“Great idea,” Paul said. “I think I left something in the cabin anyway.”

Shouldering their backpacks, they moved against the general direction of the crowd and made their way inside and down the stairs. Reaching their deck, they continued down the hall.

As they neared their cabin, an announcement came over the intercom. First in Chinese, then Japanese, then English. “All passengers return to your cabins. Have your passports and belongings ready for inspection.”

“That proves it to me,” Paul said. “We need to hide. Or get off this ship.”

Paul unlocked the cabin door and ducked inside.

Gamay followed, shutting the door behind her. “Not sure our cabin is the best place to lay low.”

“We’re here only for the moment,” he said, moving to the window and looking down at the sea. “We’re in luck. The patrol boat docked on the other side of the ferry. Get out the transmission cable and tie it securely to something.”

“Are we swimming for it?” Gamay asked.

“Only as a last resort,” Paul said. “Let’s move quickly. We don’t have a lot of time.”