Mai Jia - Decoded

There was not a man or woman in the whole of Unit 701 who did not know him and respect him. As he walked back and forward, alone as usual, even the dogs seemed to recognize him. Everyone understood that even if all the stars in the heavens dropped from the sky, his star would still be shining there forever — he had achieved more glory than anyone could use up in the course of a lifetime. As year followed year, people watched his promotion: team leader, deputy group leader, group leader, deputy section chief. . he accepted it all calmly, with perfect modesty. As they say, still waters run deep.

That was how people felt about it — they admired him without jealousy, they sighed but without sadness. They had all come to accept that he was unique, that there was no one else like him, that there was no point in trying to compete. Ten years later, in 1966, he became chief of the cryptography section — a position that would have taken anyone else twice as long or more to achieve. However, everyone seemed to have been expecting it of him; there was no sense of amazement at his early promotion. Everyone seemed convinced that sooner or later he would end up taking over management of the whole of Unit 701 — the title of director was just waiting until the right moment before it settled down upon this silent young man’s head.

It would have been perfectly easy for the thing that everyone was expecting and waiting for to happen, because in Unit 701, as in any secret organization, it would not be easy for the vast majority of the senior managers to take on the heavy responsibilities of the job. Furthermore Rong Jinzhen’s impassive and adamantine personality seemed to make him a very suitable choice for the role of head of a secret unit.

However, in the space of just a couple of days at the end of 1969, something happened. Even today, very few people know what occurred in those crucial hours, and so explaining the course of events is the subject of the next section of this book.

It all began with the research symposium on BLACK.

BLACK, as the name perhaps implies, was the sister of PURPLE, but much more advanced, sophisticated and profound, just as the colour black is deeper than purple. Three years before — Rong Jinzhen would always remember that terrifying day, it was 1 September 1966 (not long before he had gone and rescued Master Rong) — the first traces of BLACK had made themselves known. It was akin to a bird somehow comprehending that lurking within a mass of cloud there is a mountain of snow cutting off access to what lies beyond. From his first engagement with BLACK, Rong Jinzhen had a premonition that his attempt to crack it would bring him perilously close to annihilation.

What happened later was exactly that: the tentacles of BLACK spread continuously throughout PURPLE, expanding, growing, just like rays of darkness engulfing the light, thoroughly consuming it. According to members of Unit 701, the dark days of ten years ago had come again, and nearly everyone put their hopes for a resolution square upon the shoulders of Rong Jinzhen, 701’s star cryptographer. Three years on, and day after day and night after night Jinzhen was still searching for even the smallest ray of light, but none was to be found: the darkness was overwhelming. It was in the midst of this situation that Unit 701 and the General Headquarters jointly organized a research symposium on BLACK — a low-key and yet grand conference.

The conference was held at Headquarters.

Much like many other government divisions, Unit 701’s General Headquarters was located in Beijing. Travelling from A City by train required three days and two nights; there were also flights between A City and the capital, but it was not possible to take these as aeroplanes always made people think of hijackings. Quite honestly, the chances of an aeroplane being hijacked were slim, but if such a plane were to have on board a cryptographer from Unit 701, then the likelihood of a hijacking would increase dramatically, perhaps even a hundredfold. And if that cryptographer was Rong Jinzhen, the man responsible for cracking PURPLE, and who was in the midst of deciphering BLACK, then the chances of an attempted hijacking would increase beyond measure. You could even say that if Rong Jinzhen was aboard, it would be best for all concerned if the flight never took off. This was because if the intelligence agency of X country had managed to get wind that Rong Jinzhen was on board, then their agents would have already infiltrated the aeroplane and be waiting anxiously for it to take off to carry out their insane and brazen actions. This was no joke, but something that had been learnt the hard way. Everyone at Unit 701 knew of the spring of 1958. It was just after Rong Jinzhen had cracked PURPLE: a low-ranking cryptographer from Y country had been abducted in just this manner by agents from X country. Zheng the Gimp was familiar with this case; he had learnt of it almost immediately; he had even had a few dinners with the cryptographer in question. But now, who knows where this person is, who knows whether he is dead or alive? This is perhaps one aspect of the cruelty of the cryptographer’s profession.

In contrast, boarding a train or a car is a much more reliable and safer method of travel — even though unexpected incidents can happen, there are also always counter measures at hand; there are always escape routes. Needless to say then, whilst in a car — unlike on an aeroplane — one needn’t sit and wait to be kidnapped. That said, driving such a long way is rather difficult to endure, and so Rong Jinzhen settled on the only choice left: train. Because of his special status and because he carried top-secret documents, he was able to book a soft sleeper car for the trip; all that was required was for them to ensure upon departure that a station security official had cleared them a berth. Of course, carrying out such an action was an extremely rare occurrence which couldn’t help but make Rong Jinzhen feel a little uneasy.

Accompanying Rong Jinzhen was a man of an incredibly serious demeanour, rather tall, with a dark complexion, a somewhat big mouth and triangular eyes. Adorning his chin was a longish moustache which stubbornly curled up on itself, rather like hog bristles. His stiff mode of conduct made people think of steel wire, and his determined approach suffused everything he did. In many ways, he gave off what seemed to be an aura of death. Saying that this man projected a lethal spirit, a ferocious appearance, is perhaps not saying enough. The fact is that throughout Unit 701, this rather serious man was held in very high respect; he had always possessed a certain power and prestige. But, as people also said, his power was not the same as that of Rong Jinzhen, whose importance lay in his intelligence. However, the man had a very special role to play: whenever a senior member of Unit 701 needed to travel beyond the complex, they would always want him along for the ride. Because of this, everyone called him Vasili, after Lenin’s bodyguard in the 1939 Russian film Lenin in 1918 . He was Unit 701’s Vasili.

Most people would say that they had never seen Vasili wearing anything other than his fashionably large windbreaker. His hands would always be stuffed in its pockets. He walked with long strides, full of energy — an awe-inspiring figure, just what you would expect in a bodyguard. Amongst Unit 701’s younger members, there were none who did not harbour a mixture of envy and respect for Vasili. They would often gather together and talk about him enthusiastically — his vigour, his various demonstrations of bravery. Even though his hands were always in his pockets, this only made people speculate fantastically on what lay therein, saying that in his righthand pocket was a German-made B7 pistol, ready to be drawn at a moment’s notice. In his left, a special permit, handwritten and given to him by the head of the intelligence service — some famous highranking military officer: all he had to do was take it out and wherever he needed to go, he went; not even the prince of heaven would dare to obstruct him.