Don Winslow - The Trail to Buddha_s Mirror

“He who feeds China, Mr. Carey, controls China.”

Xao paused for comment or agreement, but Neal remained silent.

“We exercised every caution in our seduction of Dr. Pendleton. There were two factors that we did not predict: Lan actually falling in love with the man, and you. Lan shook you off easily in California, but we did not expect you to follow her to Hong Kong, which was the midpoint of the operation. We had to keep Pendleton in Hong Kong until our internal arrangements were complete. You were never supposed to leave San Francisco. The fact that you did was the fault of Lan’s local case officer, a certain Mr. Crowe. He failed to delay you, failed to deflect your search.”

It’s all about making money now, Neal. Is that what Crowe said? Is that why he came so quickly to Mill Valley to pick me up?

“Was it Crowe who tried to shoot me that night?”

“No. To the best of our understanding, that would have been Mr. Simms. It appears now that Mr. Simms was working for our government, and he wanted Lan and Pendleton to make it into China, where I could be implicated along with them. He apparently mistook you for Pendleton, but the shot was intended to miss.

“When you made such a bother of yourself in Hong Kong, Lan argued that she had to meet you, to persuade you to give up your obsession. Frankly, I would have preferred to have you killed.”

“You tried,” said Neal, remembering the gang with the choppers and the Doorman’s bloody death.

“And Simms intervened and saved your life. He had further use for you. You confirmed his good judgment when you tracked down Lan that night and ‘persuaded’ her to defect. After you saved her life that night from the Taiwanese thug, Chin, Lan would no longer countenance your being eliminated.”

Neal turned his gaze to Lan. “So you lured me into the Walled City and dumped me there.”

“May I remind you,” said Xao, “that she also rescued you?”

“Why?”

“Again, this arose from a miscalculation. Your friends and employers were creating a stir. Lan would not let you simply perish in the Walled City, and we could not let you return to your employers and tell what you knew. The only solution was to bring you here and either buy your silence or give you convincing disinformation to take home with you.”

Neal’s head was starting to clear. They had run him past Li Lan at the commune to see if he’d keep his mouth shut. Encouraged when he did, they’d sent Li Hong, pretending to be her sister, to sleep with him to ensure his silence when he went home. But he had screwed that up when he demanded to see Pendleton personally. Queered the deal and also sentenced Hong to death.

“You knew that Peng was working for the other side,” Neal said.

“Of course. We knew that you would lead him to the rendezvous on the mountain. Your obsession with Lan would not let you turn back. So we wanted both you and Peng to see Lan and Pendleton commit suicide. That was the word we wanted you to take to Washington and Peng to take to Beijing.”

Neal looked at Lan. “Your sister was willing to do this?”

Lan nodded. “She was eager. Life had become a torture for her after Mother’s suicide. I had hoped her sacrifice would not be necessary, but your obsession with me demanded it.”

“Let us be honest, Mr. Carey. Hong never forgave herself, but neither did I. After my wife’s death, Hong took part in the worst of the Red Guard infighting. She trained as an agent, a killer. She was consumed with self-hatred. After the chaos, when I came back to power and influence, I had her found. And I imprisoned her myself. We were chained together by our guilt and sorrow. I asked her to perform this mission.”

“Your own daughter?”

“I do not expect you to understand.”

“And it was Hong I was with on the mountain.”

“Everything went according to our plan, except for the presence of Mr. Simms. That was something we didn’t expect. We didn’t realize he was working with Peng until he fired his rifle.”

At the tall man in the black cloak. A. Brian Crowe.

“How did Crowe happen to catch that bullet?”

“He was my handler,” Lan said. “He introduced me to the artistic community in California. He arranged for me to go to the correct parties and meet the correct people.”

“Why?”

God, Neal thought. I’m still jealous.

“Money,” Xao answered. “We paid him a great deal of money. But with Lan returning to China, Mr. Crowe saw that income about to disappear. He sought out the Taiwanese and tried to sell his special knowledge. They laughed at him and threatened to turn him in to the FBI. He panicked and ran. We arranged his defection to protect ourselves. It was fortunate timing.”

“Not for Crowe.”

“He was a mercenary. Mercenaries get killed.”

Neal turned back to Xao. “So it all worked out for you. Peng and I saw your two stand-ins go off the edge. So why am I here? Why aren’t I back in the States, spreading your ‘disinformation’?”

“Simms. Mr. Simms was going to kill you. For reasons I have explained, we could not let that happen. So we had to kill Mr. Simms to save you.”

“You trusted that job to Xiao Wu, a lit student, a tour guide?”

“You are somewhat naive, Mr. Carey. Xiao Wu was graduated in literature, but his tour guide status is what you would call a cover. He works for us in a different capacity.”

“That still doesn’t tell me why you’re holding me.”

“Several reasons. First, we are afraid you will talk about Simms’s death. Killing a CIA agent… even a renegade one… is a serious matter we would just as soon avoid. So the word had been put out that Mr. Simms has defected. It is Mr. Frazier that fell off the mountain.”

“But I’m Mr. Frazier.”

“Just so. Your employers will be informed that you used this alias to enter the People’s Republic, where you met your untimely death. Second, Mr. Peng had been quite conscientious in telling all parties concerned about the suicides of Dr. Robert Pendleton and the treacherous Li Lan.”

“So the CIA will stop looking for them, and my people will stop looking for me.”

“Third, I am afraid you know too much.”

“Why did you tell me?”

Li Lan walked over to him and took his hand. “You were dying from your guilt. If we had sent you home, you would have died there.”

Neal shook her hand off.

“Can I ever leave?”

“Perhaps someday, when we are secure in power and it will no longer matter,” Xao said. “When it is safe.”

Neal thought about Graham, about Graham becoming another victim of this damn mess.

“You will stay here at the monastery,” Xao explained. “As your injury heals, you may move about. You need not become a Buddhist, of course, but you will be expected to share in the work. If you attempt to escape, you will be executed. Do you understand?”

Neal nodded.

“I am sorry for your situation, Mr. Carey. But you are-as are we all-responsible for your own fate.”

Xao walked out into the sun.

“I am sorry,” Li Lan said.

Neal shook his head.

“I mourn her deeply,” she said. “I mourn for all of us.”

She knelt in front of him, forcing him to look at her face.

“When you looked into the Buddha’s Mirror,” she asked, “what did you see?”

He stared into her eyes before he answered.

“Nothing.”

She squeezed his hands and then left him alone.

Joe Graham stepped out of the chauffeured limousine and walked the last hundred yards to the border checkpoint. The August heat was brutal, and he sweated even in his light khaki suit. A hot wind blew in his face as he scanned the checkpoint, where a chain-link gate topped by concertina wire stood between two concrete bunkers.