“Save face for China,” Paul corrected. “If you play the hero by exposing the corruption and singling out Walter Han, you can protect China’s reputation. Even if he’s backed by your government in some form or another, those links can be erased. Considering the situation, our government will agree to keep it a secret. But you have to act soon. You have to get out in front of this.”
“And Han is thrown to the wolves,” Zhang said.
“Someone has to be. Why not him?”
Zhang folded both arms across his chest, contemplating silently. He did not move for a full minute and then walked back to the desk.
“You two will remain here,” he said. “I’ve sent the guards who saw you enter on an early vacation. Don’t worry, no harm will come to them. Nor to your friend the reporter. No one else knows of your presence in this building, but, ironically enough, the very people who are hunting you reside several floors above us.”
Without another word, Zhang plucked his hat from the desktop, put it firmly in place and walked out the door.
* * *
• • •
GENERAL ZHANG got off the elevator on the ninth floor of the building. He strode down the hall, arriving outside an office at the far end. A second layer of security stood at attention as he approached.
“Is the Lao-shi present?” he asked a two stripe corporal.
“Yes, sir,” the corporal said. “He’s not to be disturbed.”
“I will see him,” Zhang said.
“But sir, he . . .”
“I will see him . . . now.”
The corporal fell silent. Nothing could be worse for a low-ranking enlisted man than to face conflicting orders from higher-ups. In the end, Zhang was a general and Wen was a politician. The uniform made the difference. He snapped a salute, opened the door and stood aside.
Zhang wandered in and discovered Wen sitting on a couch, watching the morning news . . . from Japan.
Wen did not look up. “I left orders not to be disturbed.”
“So you did,” Zhang said. “I countermanded them.”
Wen was not a reactionary man—few who held such power were, as they didn’t need to be—but his frame tensed at the insubordination.
“Leave me, General,” he said dismissively. “I did not call for you. And unless your forces have finally proven competent and captured the Americans, I have no desire to speak with you.”
Wen had forced every military and police organization in the government to share in the search for the Americans. Such was his power. It was Zhang’s reason for being in Shanghai when he would have preferred to remain in Beijing, but Wen had refused him that luxury.
He stepped forward. The cap was removed once again. “The Americans have indeed been found,” he said. “And they tell a most interesting story.”
Only now did Wen give Zhang his full attention. “Where are they? I will see them at once.”
“That will have to wait.”
Wen stood up and the benign old face looked suddenly menacing and evil. “You dare defy me? I thought you were smarter than that.”
Zhang wondered if he was making a mistake. Wen was the second-most-powerful man in the country and the main architect of so much mischief. While the Chinese Premier ran the country and dealt with the day-to-day operations of the Communist Party, Wen remained behind the scenes, manipulating levers most did not even know about. He could make or break anyone, even a man as important as General Zhang.
Then again, China was no place for the timid. It was more like ancient Rome than Western governments. Power was collected and wielded. It was taken, not given. And Zhang now had a chip to play. “What is Walter Han doing for you in Japan? We know he’s a proxy of yours.”
“That question will cost you dearly, General.”
“Nevertheless, I will have an answer.”
The standoff continued. Wen stared, unused to being challenged in any real fashion.