Don Pendleton: Death Minus Zero

“We are still active in searching for those traitors. We will find them,” Zhou declared.

“I do not doubt that,” Chan said. “Would it were in my own lifetime.”

Zhou stiffened, face taut with anger, but there was little he could say. His operatives had failed and werestill failing to locate the two men.

The door at the far end of the room opened and a wheeled trolley was pushed inside. It held pots of tea and coffee. Cups were filled on request before the group around the table was left alone again.

There were seven other uniformed attendees sitting around the table. Each had an open folder in front of him.

Placing his cup on the table, Chan said, “I understand there are questions to be asked. Shall we begin?”

“As I have only recently been assigned to your group, Colonel Chan, my knowledge of this project is not complete. May I ask for clarification?”

The speaker was a young military officer. His uniform was in pristine condition, hair neat and precise. Eagerness shone in his eyes. His name was Kung Lang. Chan had heard good things about the man’s progress through the ranks.

“For the benefit of Major Lang, and any others not fully aware of this operation, I will take you through it this one time,” Chan said. “Make notes, because if you miss anything it will not be repeated. I have no time to keep going over the facts.”

Chan spent the next twenty minutes cataloging the Zero operation from its inception to the less-than-satisfactory conclusion of the original Chinese strike against it. He held nothing back, giving all the names and locations.

“We became entangled with a separate operation mounted by disaffected Americans who were attempting a coup d’état. That and our presence became known and, as you all are aware, our operation was defeated. We were forced to abandon, but we did not forget.

“The Zero prize is still something we covet. It is still, as then, something we would like to get our hands on. In your files you will have read and realized the potential threat it poses. Our Pacific Rim friends, who were anxious for us to gain control of the platform at the time, have not backed down from their desires. Apart from the weapons technology, the ability for Zero to see and hear so much could prove embarrassing. If that ability fell into our control, everything would be reversed.”

“Surely the Americans would resist any attempt to take control from their hands,” one of the listeners said.

“Of course they would. Which is why we need help from this man Kaplan. He understands Zero like no one else. In reality he is Zero. The man carries everything there is to know about his creation. He has refused from day one to reveal certain details about Zero’s human-machine interface. He cleverly kept the details of his creation in his head, allowing only as much as was necessary to make the process possible. Saul Kaplan is an extremely clever man. Holding back on certain aspects of the design and interface technology has placed him in a unique position.”

“If he dies?” someone asked. “Surely he must have considered that possibility.”

“Even I do not have insight into that. It will be something we will attempt to find out once Kaplan is safely in our hands.”

Kung Lang leaned forward. “There must exist a contingency plan for the sudden death of this man,” he said. “I find it difficult to conceive there is nothing held in reserve.”

“You may be correct, Lang, and it will be one of the matters under consideration when Kaplan is being questioned. I must myself admit to having reservations over that very aspect of this affair. Rest assured that I will be pursuing that extremely thoroughly.”

The session went on for another hour and by the end of it Chan was convinced his team was up to date on every aspect of Zero known to them.

When he returned to his office, leaving them briefly to discuss the meeting between themselves, his mind was full of unanswered questions that only Saul Kaplan could answer. Chan was anticipating the confrontation of minds when he finally came face-to-face with the man. As confident as he was of his own abilities, he hoped he would match up to the American. Kaplan was no simpleton—the man who had devised and orchestrated the building of the Zero Platform had nothing to prove to anyone. The sheer brilliance coming from inside his head told Chan he would be facing a man capable of a technological marvel. Kaplan’s genius had conceived and produced something that had never been done before. Not just the floating platform—but the convergence of man and machine on a new, unheard-of level.

If he did nothing else with his life, Chan was determined to gain that knowledge so he could present Zero to his beloved country. If China could get its hands on Zero, the balance of many things would change—away from the United States and toward his country.

It was, Chan knew, a dream worth pursuing.

Having Zero in China’s control would be a major coup, for him as well as for his nation. If he, Chan, could present Zero to his leaders, he would be able to stand tall in the hierarchy. From such heights he would command not only respect but power. And power was something Chan desired. It was a need he had long harbored. He had little need for monetary gain. That was only a fleeting thing. But long-term power was something else. To achieve strength in a position of influence stirred deep feelings inside him. A basic, intoxicating feeling that demanded fulfillment.

If he could achieve total control over the American creation, it would offer him everything he wanted. His name would be forever remembered in China’s history. He, Xia Chan, would be known as the man who took the Zero Project away from the Americans and offered it to his people.

That was a victory worth aiming for.

And it was to that end Xia Chan looked.

* * *

ONE OF CHAN’S OFFICERS called him on the office phone.

“Arrangements are complete. You will be able to leave within the next hour.”

Xia Chan allowed himself a brief smile. He acknowledged the call and put down the phone. He leaned back in his padded chair, going over the details of the forthcoming trip in his mind. Finally he picked up the phone and spoke to one of his aides.

“Call the airstrip and tell my pilot to be ready when I arrive. He can be advised of our destination now so he can key in his route. Tell him I need to leave as soon as possible. I will need to speak to the group again before I leave. Tell them the meeting will continue shortly. Then come into my office.”

The aide was a thin, prematurely balding young officer. He always appeared nervous in Chan’s presence.

“You know what to do?”

“Yes, Colonel.”

“No mistakes. No one is to leave with any written notes. We keep everything in-house. If you find anything it must be burned. You understand?”

“Yes, Colonel. It will be done.”

When the aide had gone, Chan retired to his private quarters, where he changed from his uniform and dressed in a smart suit, shirt and tie. He stepped into soft-soled black shoes, already polished to a high shine. He checked the expensive attaché case sitting on the floor. It contained his passport and documentation and a fully charged sat phone. There was money and credit cards—not that he expected to need them, but it was always a wise move to have such things handy.

He left his office and made his way to the conference room where his team was waiting. He stood at the head of the table as they all turned to face him.

“As I told you earlier, the man Kaplan is now in our hands and I am leaving shortly to fly to the rendezvous where the American will be held while he is interrogated. Yang Zhou will accompany me. While we are away, I want the facility made ready. Check everything and then check it again. I want all systems up and ready when I return.” Chan stared from face to face. “I hope this is fully understood. No excuses. The facility must be ready when I return with Kaplan.”