“And the structure?”
“As you know,” the ambassador said, taking another sip, “this is not a United States government operation. For all intents and purposes, you will be making the agreements with a separate company that we subcontract with.”
“But they work for you?” Putin asked.
“Not on paper,” the ambassador said, “but we have used them in the past.”
“Give me some details,” Putin said as he rose to stoke the fire with a poker. “I’d like to know with whom I’m getting into bed.”
“They call themselves the Corporation,” the ambassador noted quietly. “They handle things of a sensitive nature for us and other countries. The company has specialized skills, huge amounts of funding and an unparalleled reputation for integrity.”
“They can be trusted?” Putin asked.
“You may consider their word their bond,” the ambassador confirmed.
“Who runs this Corporation?” Putin asked.
“A man named Juan Cabrillo,” the ambassador answered.
“And when do I meet this Juan Cabrillo?” Putin said, turning from the fire, placing the poker back in the rack and sliding into the armchair.
“He will be in Moscow late this evening,” the ambassador said.
“Good,” Putin said. “I welcome the chance to hear him out.”
The ambassador finished the small glass of vodka and waved away Putin’s attempt to refill it. “Now,” he said, “how much hassle are you getting from the Chinese?”
“Enough,” the Russian president admitted, “but not more than we can handle.”
“If you need to,” the ambassador asked, “are you ready to go in?”
Putin pointed to a folder of papers on the table. “There is the plan. In less than twenty-four hours, we can cross the Tarim Basin in a lightning-fast raid and reach the border of Tibet.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” the ambassador said.
“If I have to order that approach,” Putin said, “I want your president on paper supporting that move. There is no other way.”
“We don’t think you’ll need to do that,” the ambassador said. “It won’t go that far.”
“Just know,” Putin said, “if we stand up—he does too.”
“I’ll let him know,” the ambassador said.
“THEY appeared out of nowhere,” the head of Chinese state security said.
Chinese president Hu Jintao stared at the man with barely concealed contempt.
“Five hundred Buddhist monks just materialized out of the mist in People’s Park in downtown Beijing?” Jintao said. “That’s some magic.”
The man sat mute. There was nothing to say.
“And they are chanting and calling for Tibetan freedom?”
“Yes, sir,” the man from state security said.
“When was the last time we were faced with a Tibetan protest?” Jintao asked.
“In Beijing?” the man said. “It’s been over a decade—and then it was tiny and easily dispersed.”