Treasure of Khan (Dirk Pitt 19)

"As you know, additional generators will go on line shortly at the Three Gorges Dam hydroelectric development, while a half dozen new coal- and gas-fired power plants are in various stages of construction. But obtaining sufficient natural gas and fuel oil supplies to operate the non-hydro power plants has been a problem, and is more so now. Our state-sponsored oil companies have stepped up exploration in the South China Sea, despite protests from the Vietnamese government. Furthermore, we continue to broaden supply relationships abroad. The foreign ministry has

recently completed successful negotiations to purchase significant quantities of fuel oil from Iran, I might remind the committee. And we are continuing efforts to acquire Western oil companies that own rich stocks of reserves."

"Minister Shinzhe is correct." The gray-haired foreign minister, who sat quietly to the side, coughed. "These activities address long-term sources of energy, however, and will do nothing to solve the immediate problem."

"Again, I ask, what is being done to address the shortfall?" Fei nearly shrieked, his voice rising an octave.

"In addition to Iran, we have spoken with several Middle Eastern countries about boosting their exports. We must of course compete with the Western countries on price," Shinzhe said softly. "But the Ningbo Harbor damage physically limits the amount of oil we are able to bring in by sea."

"What about the Russians?"

"They are in love with the Japanese," the foreign minister spat. "Our attempt to jointly develop a pipeline from the western Siberian oil fields was rejected by the Russians in favor of a line to the Pacific that will supply Japan. We can only boost rail shipments of oil from Russia in the short term, which, of course, is not a feasible means to transport any sizeable quantities."

"So there is no real solution," Fei grumbled, his anger still simmering. "Our economic growth will terminate, our gains against the West will cease, and we can all just return to our cooperative farms in the provinces, where we will enjoy continuing blackouts."

The room fell silent again as no one dared even breathe in the face of the general secretary's ire. Only the tinny rattle of the air-conditioning rumbling in the background stirred the heavy morose in the air. Then Shinzhe's assistant, a petite woman named Yee, cleared her throat.

"Excuse me, General Secretary, Minister Shinzhe," she said, nodding to the two men. "The State has just today received a peculiar offer of energy assistance through our ministry. I am sorry I didn't have the opportunity to brief you, Minister," she said to Shinzhe. "I didn't recognize the importance at the time."

"What is the proposal?" Fei asked.

"It is an offer from an entity in Mongolia to supply high-quality crude oil. . ."

"Mongolia?" Fei interrupted. "There's no oil in Mongolia."

"The offer is to supply one million barrels a day," Yee continued. "Delivery commencing within ninety days."

"That's preposterous," Shinzhe exclaimed, glaring at Yee with irritation for publicly sharing the communiqué.

"Perhaps," Fei replied, a look of intrigue suddenly warming his face. "It is worth investigating. What else does the proposal say?"

"Just the terms they demand in return," Yee replied, suddenly looking nervous. Pausing in hopes the discussion would end there, she sheepishly continued when she saw all eyes were fixed on her. "The price of the oil shall be set at the current market price and locked for a period of three years. In addition, exclusive use of the northeast oil pipeline terminating at the port of Qinhuangdao shall be granted, and, further, the Chinese-controlled lands denoted Inner Mongolia shall be formally ceded back to the ruling government of Mongolia."

The staid audience erupted in an uproar. Cries of outrage rocked through the room at the shocking demand. After minutes of boisterous dissent, Fei pounded an ashtray on the table to regain silence.

"Silence!" the president shouted, immediately quieting the crowd. A pained look crossed his face, then he spoke calmly and quietly. "Find out if the offer is real, if the oil does, in fact, exist. Then we shall worry about negotiating an appropriate price."

"As you wish, General Secretary," Shinzhe bowed.

"Tell me first, though. Who is it that is making this contemptuous demand?"

Shinzhe looked helplessly at Yee. "It is a small entity that is unknown to our ministry," she answered, addressing the president. "They are called the Avarga Oil Consortium."

-14-

THEY WERE HOPELESSLY LOST. Two weeks after departing Ulan-Ude with instructions to explore the upper Selenga River valley, the five-man seismic exploration team had lost its way. None of the men from the Russian oil company LUKOIL were from the region, which added to their misfortune. The trouble began when someone spilled a hot coffee on the GPS unit, drowning it in a quick death. It was not enough to halt their progression south, even when they stumbled across the Mongolian border and off the edge of the Siberian maps they carried for insurance. What kept them going was a series of subsurface folds detected from the pounding of the "thumper" truck that indicated possible structural traps. Structural traps in the sediment are natural collection basins where pockets of oil and gas can accumulate. The survey team had meandered southeast while tracking the deep traps that meant possible oil and completely lost track of the river. "All we have to do is head north and follow our tracks where they're visible," said a short, balding man named Dimitri. The team leader stood peering west, watching the long shadows cast by the trees as sunset approached.

"I knew we should have left a trail of bread crumbs," grinned a young assistant engineer named Vlad.

"I don't think we have enough fuel to reach Kyakhta," replied the thumper's driver. Like the vehicle itself, he was a big, burly man with thick limbs. He climbed into the open driver's door and stretched out on the bench seat for a catnap with his meaty hands tucked behind his head. The big thirty-ton rig carried a steel slab under its belly, which pounded the ground, sending seismic shocks deep into the earth. Small transceivers were placed various distances from the truck, which received the signals as they bounced off the subsurface sediment layers. Computerized processing converted the signals into visual maps and images of the ground below.

A dirty red four-wheel-drive truck pulled alongside and stopped, its two occupants jumping out to join the debate.

"We had no authorization to cross the border, and now we don't even know where the border is," complained the support truck's driver.

"The seismic readings justify our continued tracking," Dimitri replied. "Besides, we were ordered to take to the field for two weeks. We'll let the company bureaucrats worry about obtaining permission to drill. As for the border, we know it is somewhere north of us. Our immediate concern will be to acquire fuel in order to reach the border."

The driver was about to complain when a muffled boom in the distance diverted his attention.