Don Pendleton - Dragon Key

Chen smiled and nodded. “You see, oftentimes the answer you seek lies within your own knowledge.”

Han Son Chu, Wong thought. Sammo Han to the Western press. But how did he trace me to that Russian whore? And how did he know about the dragon key? Wong did some mental calculations. The time frame did fit. The one-armed bastard must have followed him to Hong Kong and somehow bribed the whore to steal it. No matter. Han was under house detention. It would be simple to grab him and reobtain the dragon key.

“Is this blossom not beautiful?” Chen held the flower toward Wong. “But just as the rose on the vine is lovely, one must be careful to avoid the accompanying thorns.”

Another riddle, Wong thought. He took one last drag on his cigarette and ground it under the sole of his shoe.

“The Committee is getting ready to move against Han as we speak,” Wong said. “He’s already under house detention, but if he’s arrested and brought to trial for his disruptive activities, he could bring up my indiscretions in a public forum. And then our involvement will surely come to light. We’re both on the line here.”

Chen nodded. “But even the Committee would not move in such drastic fashion at this time,” he said. “The world press is swarming Beijing, and reporters are following the American movie star who is seeking an audience with Han. The last thing the Committee would want is for China to lose face on the world stage.”

Wong nodded. “This gives us time to confront the bastard privately. Get the dragon key back before they initiate a complete arrest.”

Chen shook his head. “Regrettably, there is more. The American spy you mentioned...”

Wong frowned. “What about him?”

“He is being held at Song Jing Prison, is he not?”

“Yes. How did you know that?”

Chen’s smile returned, as placid as ever. “I have my sources.”

Wong’s frown deepened. Was there nothing this old bastard didn’t know?

Chen waited a beat and continued, “The interrogation of the American has yielded a bit of information concerning Han. He is getting ready to defect.”

“That one-armed son of a whore,” Wong said. “I’ll take pleasure in watching him die slowly.”

“Most assuredly. But let us assume Han anticipated his arrest. Would he not keep the device in a secret place? Would he not make arrangements to release it to a confederate if he dies prior to its recovery? We must fully consider this risk, should it fall into the wrong hands.”

Like those of the Standing Committee, Wong thought.

“Thus,” Chen said, “we must move with circumspection.”

This did nothing to ease the growing tension in Wong’s gut.

“Do you understand?” Chen asked.

“Yes.” Wong took another cigarette out of his pack. “What do you want me to do?”

Chen smiled at his acquiescence. “For the moment you can do nothing but stand and await my further instructions. But do not despair. I have a plan in mind, but it will require your assistance.” He heard Chen’s soft chuckle again. “As I said, be patient and trust in me. It shall all be resolved in an expeditious manner, Comrade General. Trust in your humble servant.”

Humble servant. The old liar. Wong forced himself to nod in agreement, and then he lit his cigarette.

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