Don Pendleton - China Crisis

Kai Chek Village, Guang Lor, Xinjiang, one day earlier

L OY H UNG CAUGHT the man’s sleeve and pulled him inside, closing the door.

“What is so urgent?”

The man’s face blanked. His gaze wandered the room, in itself an admission he was nervous.

“Kam Lee?”

Lee hung his head, hands nervously toying with the wide straw hat he held.

“Kang…”

“I know about Kang. You have had to deal with him all these months.”

“I think he may have suspicions about me.”

“After all this time? Why?”

Kam Lee shook his head. “A feeling. Loy, I think my time at Guang Lor may be finished.”

“Then we will have to bring you out,” Hung said.

Lee seemed relieved. “I will complete this assignment, then we will do it.”

“So what is you need to tell me?”

“The missile test went wrong,” Lee said. “Something to do with the stabilizing system. It sent the missile off course and it crashed close to the border.”

“My people will have been tracking it,” Hung said. “I haven’t spoken to them during the last couple of days.”

“There is one more thing,” Lee said. “I was nearby when Controller Kwok was talking to Kang. One of the circuit boards on the missile was a stolen one. It came from America.”

“Truly?” Hung asked.

“Yes.”

Hung smiled. “Just what we need to prove what Beijing has been up to.”

“And because of that, Kang will be working hard to get it back,” Lee stated.

“Have they sent out a search party yet?”

“It’s being organized now.”

“Then we don’t have much time,” Hung said. “You are certain about this stolen board?”

“Yes. Orders came from Beijing for the test of the new missile to go ahead immediately. No excuses. The technicians were still working on the copies of the board, and they knew they wouldn’t get them ready in time. Mau Sung fitted one of the stolen boards so there would be no delay. If the test had gone as planned, the board would have been destroyed when the missile hit its target and detonated.”

“We have to get our hands on that board. This is better than we expected,” Hung told him.

“I should return. If I stay longer, someone might notice,” Lee said.

Hung nodded. “You go. I’ll make contact with our team to locate the missile and retrieve the board. If we can clear the area before the search team arrives, we have a chance.”

“Hung, be careful. Major Kang will be leading the search team personally. If he learns of your involvement…”

“Don’t worry. I know all about Kang. His reputation doesn’t alarm me,” Hung replied.

“Be careful,” Lee advised.

Hung waited until Lee was well away from the house. He closed up and made his way out to the rear of the building where a battered panel truck was parked against the wall. He climbed in, started up the vehicle and drove out of the settlement, picking up the dusty road heading north. Once he was clear he took a cell phone from inside his tunic and switched it on. The cell was Tri-Band and worked through a satellite signal. Hung tapped in a number and waited until his call was picked up.

“I’ve just learned about the missile crash. Have you found it?” Hung asked.

“Yes. We know it landed miles off track. We have it on our monitor.”

Hung explained about the stolen circuit board and the need to get their hands on it.

“I’m on my way,” he said. “Get the team moving. If they are close they should be able to reach the missile well before the team from Guang Lor can assemble and take off. If we locate this board, it has to be moved out of the area quickly before Major Kang can pin us down. Make sure that everyone is armed in case Kang does show up.”

T HREE HOURS LATER Hung met up with the group. There were five of them, all armed and ready to move. He parked his truck alongside their vehicle.

“Have you located the missile?” he asked.

Dar Tan, heading the group, nodded. He led Hung across to the team’s 4x4. The rear door was open and one of the team sat over an electronic tracking system.

“Show Hung where the missile is, Sammy.”

Sammy Cho, a thin, young man wearing a faded denims and a baseball cap, indicated the readout screen on his tracking station.

“We had the missile’s flight path locked in from the moment it was launched,” he said. “It was easy to follow the flight path. It left enough of a signature from its engines that we were able to keep it on screen. Even when it went off course we managed to keep tracking, and after it went down I was able to work out the location.” Cho leaned out the door, pointing in the direction of low hills to the northeast of their position. “No more than thirty miles from here.”

“Good. Can we reach it by vehicle?”

“Should not be a problem,” Cho told him.

“Then we go now. I want to try to be out before Kang shows up. We’ll take your 4x4. That old truck of mine isn’t fit to tackle those foothills.”

T HE MISSILE LAY at the end of a shallow furrow it had gouged in the dry ground, coming to rest straddling a wide stream. The moment the 4x4 stopped, Hung, Tan and Cho went directly to the missile. Cho had a tool kit slung from his shoulder. The rest of the team spread out to form a protective shield, keeping watch while Cho went to work.

Hung took out a digital camera and started to take shots of the missile, following the actions of his team and what was being done.

Cho knew exactly where to go. While Tan held the open tool kit the young technician used a power-pack-driven tool to remove the flush retaining screws holding the access panel in place. The whine of the power tool was the only sound to break the silence of the desolate location. Once he had the screws out, Cho used a steel pry-bar to break the seal holding the access panel secure. With the panel free Cho leaned inside the body of the missile, probing the shadows with a flashlight until he located the section he wanted.

“Can you see it?” Tan asked.

“Wait. You know how much equipment is packed inside one of these things?”

“Cho, you can explain when we’re safely back in Hong Kong with the evidence. I’ll gladly listen while you present me with a detailed thesis on missile technology.”

Cho made no reply. He was concentrating on getting hold of the circuit board. He had to free a number of retaining clips before he could lift out the board. Finally he had it.

Cho inspected the twelve-inch-square circuit board.

“Well?” Hung asked.

“It’s the one,” Cho affirmed.

Hung, who had kept taking shots as Cho worked inside the missile, focused in on the board, shooting it from both sides.

“Good. Now let’s move out of here.”

“Cho, take this,” Tan said, handing the tech a solid, brick-shaped package. “Push it down out of sight. I’ve set the timer for twenty minutes, and it’s activated.”

Cho took the explosive device and leaned back inside the missile, sliding the package deep inside the interior.

“Time to go,” he said.

They all returned to the 4x4 and climbed in. Loy Hung took the circuit board and the camera and packed them in a small backpack after wrapping each in lengths of cloth to protect them.

“Now all we have to do is deliver it.”

K ANG HEARD the explosion and saw smoke rising from the site.

“Sergeant, get the men moving faster.”

The five-man squad broke into a trot. Kang swung around and returned to his combat vehicle. He leaned inside and spoke to the radio operator, who was also operating the tracking equipment.

“Did that come from where the missile came down?”

“Yes, Major. The signal has ended. That explosion must have destroyed the tracking device inside the missile.”