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He handed her the computer disk. She closed her file and inserted the disk. There were no passwords or secret codes. Instead, the disk had spreadsheets listing shipments, future delivery dates, and payment schedules for nuclear trigger devices made by the Red Dragon Munitions Company, a division of the China Land and Economics Corporation, and sold to a consortium of generals in the People’s Army. Hitting an icon brought up another spreadsheet showing how the consortium had arranged to resell the triggers to several countries and individuals.
“Do you know what this is?” David asked.
Beth Madsen ejected the disk and handed it back to David. “I don’t want to know, and I don’t think you do either.” Then, affecting a carefree manner, she said, “Now let’s see if we can find a flight attendant to pour us some champagne. I think I need it.”
By the time David saw Madeleine Prentice and Rob Butler at the U.S. Attorney’s Office, they’d both already been briefed about his activities in China. He gave them the disk and they never mentioned it to him again. But within a few days, David could see its impact in several small pieces buried deep in the newspaper and in cryptic faxes from Hulan. A new flurry of arrests had been made on both sides of the Pacific. Of those in China, Hulan thought David might recognize the name of General Li, who, until his fall from power, had served on the Central Committee. He was the grandfather of Li Nan, the Red Princess Hulan and David had met that night at the Rumours nightclub.
David was unfamiliar with the names of the men arrested in the United States. Most of them were not American citizens but hailed from places in the world where terrorism was rampant. However, there were a handful of native-born crackpots who had also placed orders through Chinese middlemen to buy the nuclear triggers. To date, Guang Mingyun’s name had been kept out of the press. David suspected that it would never appear.
All this David apparently observed with only passing interest, since he was busy with his own cases. Madeleine had given him the go-ahead to prosecute Hu Qichen and Wang Yujen. Armed with the information Spencer Lee had chanted during his death ride, David subpoenaed Lee Dawei’s financial records from several banks in Southern California and was able to piece together an intricate money-laundering scheme. David then went to the grand jury and had come away with an indictment. Immediately after the dragon head’s arrest, the entire organization started to disintegrate. Now David spent his days interviewing witnesses who willingly stepped forward. He had worked toward this moment for many years, but he had no illusions. The Rising Phoenix had suffered a blow—perhaps even been defeated entirely—but in the vacuum another gang would seize power.
On March thirteenth, David invited Jack Campbell to run with him the next day around Lake Hollywood. In the morning, the FBI agent—dressed in a warm-up suit—met David at the gate that led into the lake property. As they stretched, Campbell kidded David about trying to run with a bum arm, but the younger man answered tersely that it helped his recovery to keep the blood moving. Then, to ease the tension, David clapped the agent on the back, jogged in place for a few steps, and went back to his stretches.
They started out at a leisurely pace. It was still early morning and only a few people had set out ahead of them. The air was fresh and the lake reflected the blue of the sky. David waited until he could verify that no one else was on the path, then he shoved the agent against the fence. David held his cast just under Campbell’s chin to pin him in place. The look of surprise on the FBI agent’s face was quickly replaced by a laugh. “What the fuck! You’re pretty handy with that thing.”
“Tell me what this was all about!”
Campbell attempted a shrug. “What’s to tell?”
“This was never about endangered animals, drugs, illegal immigrants, or the triads. So how about the truth?”
“The truth? Can’t do that,” Campbell said lightly. “You don’t have the clearance.”
David jammed his cast against Campbell’s chin. “I think I earned my clearance.”
“You’re sounding pretty tough for an AUSA, but, hey, I’m the one with the weapon.”
A small smile played across David’s lips. “I don’t think so.”
The agent reached behind him for the gun he kept holstered at his waist. His eyes widened when he realized it was gone.
“I took it while you were stretching.”
“I didn’t think you had it in you. You’ve got balls, Stark. I’ll give you that.”
“Let’s try it again.”
But Campbell wasn’t ready to cave in that easily. “What about the other runners?”
“I’ll worry about that when they come. Until then, start at the beginning, and no lies.”
“The beginning…” Campbell said thoughtfully. “I guess that would be with Guang Mingyun. He was up to his elbows in those nuclear trigger shenanigans. Could we prove it? Absolutely not. So we get a break. Here’s this big operator and his only son is murdered. You find the body. Guang wants the killer found—at any cost. Do you know what that means? He came to us. Guang knew his son was up to no good, but he was willing to take the risk that whatever we uncovered might cause him to lose face.” Campbell paused, considered, then asked, “What does it matter now, David? We got the bad guys.”
“Finish it!”
“So he comes to us, like I said. We have a practical government, David. We’re a country of merchants. We always have been. We say, This is gonna cost you. What do you have to trade?”
“The triggers.”
Campbell nodded. “He tells us he’s noticed some improprieties in one of his businesses.” As Campbell said this, a memory of Hulan’s father rushed into David’s brain. At Long Hills, Liu had said that anyone could take advantage of Guang Mingyun. Indeed, while his back was turned, his son had begun cheating him. At the same time, someone else had horned in on the Red Dragon trade. “Guang says he’s willing to give us names if we help him,” Campbell continued. “As a gesture of good faith, he tells us where and when a shipment of the triggers will be delivered. Those arrests were made while you were flying to Beijing the first time, but the people were all low level. But see, Guang has already promised he’ll give us the big guys—generals in the People’s Army no less—if we find his son’s killer. A deal like that doesn’t come around very often.”
“So you sent me to China to get the deal rolling.”
Campbell held up a hand. “Now wait. You’re getting ahead of things. We know that Guang’s a prickly guy. We also know that we’d rather do business with a capitalist like him than some unknown down the line. We’re thinking ahead. We have been for a long time. What’s going to happen after Deng dies? Will the generals take power? Will some conservative wacko emerge from the Central Committee who’s got a bug up his butt about capitalism and democracy? We’ve got analysts who weigh these things and here’s what they tell us: Guang’s bringing wealth to the country. He’s got support from the people. Man, this guy’s consolidated power all along the Yangtze. He’s driven by money, that’s something we can understand. So, back in Washington, they think Guang’s not such a bad guy to hav
e in our camp. We’ve certainly been in bed with worse. To put it bluntly: We’ve got a vested interest in China. Guang Mingyun is someone we understand. We speak the same language. Only one thing’s going to hold him back: the People’s Army. We help him find his son’s killer and we help him bring down the strongmen in the army. All this may not happen today or even a year from now, but down the line, we’ll expect tit for tat.”
“All for a price.”
