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Are they finally screwing with him now?
The door opens and there’s no meal tray, just a well-dressed Chinese man, black suit, black shoes, white shirt, and red-and-blue striped necktie. He’s wearing brown-rimmed glasses and his short black hair is trimmed well.
The door is closed behind him.
Benjamin doesn’t like sitting in front of him, so he stands up.
The man slightly bows. “Benjamin Lucas, I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“You have me at a disadvantage,” Benjamin says. “I don’t know who you are.”
A smile. “Han Yuanchao. I’m the station chief in Pretoria for the Ministry of State Security.”
Benjamin says, “There must be some sort of mistake. I’m a freelance writer—”
Yuanchao holds up a hand. “Please. Let’s start off as relative equals in our respective professions, and let’s not insult each other’s intelligence. You are Benjamin Lucas, a GS-12 assigned to the Directorate of Operations, although we’ve gotten indications that you’ve been working these past two months in a special unit of the CIA. Do I need to recite more of your biography?”
Benjamin keeps quiet.
“Anything you’d like to say?” Yuanchao asks.
“Yes,” he says. “I demand to be allowed contact with the American consulate in Johannesburg.”
Yuanchao smiles. “I’m afraid that’s not possible. You’re here illegally in South Africa as a spy and my government and Pretoria have a confidential understanding concerning these matters. At this moment, you are in our custody.”
“This is intolerable.”
“Oh, yes, it certainly is,” Han says.
“Your men … they murdered Chin Lin. Why?”
A slight shrug of his shoulders, like he is being asked about an expense account error. “It was an act of mercy.”
Benjamin nearly shouts. “Mercy? You call that mercy?”
“But of course,” he goes on. “She was guilty of being in contact with an American intelligence operative, she was in possession of a large amount of classified material, and she was about to defect. These actions mean the death penalty in my country. Better that she received her sentence here, promptly, without enduring months of …interrogationback in Beijing. Don’t you see?”
“I suppose I should prepare myself for such interrogation, right?”
“Good heavens, no, not really,” Yuanchao says. “What could we learn from such techniques that we don’t already know about you, your training, and your tradecraft?”
The Chinese intelligence operative checks his watch. “Dear me, I must be going. But is it safe to say that at a later time, you will say that you feel you’ve been treated well, all things considered?”
Yuanchao steps back to the door, knocks on it twice. It’s immediately opened and Benjamin says, “In fairness, yes, I’ve been treated well. Does this mean you’ll be contacting Langley for the terms of my release?”
Yuanchao steps through the door, turns, and looks puzzled. “Langley? Why should we deal with Langley?”
The door slams shut and is locked.
CHAPTER 49
NOA HIMEL IS about ten feet away from the West Wing entrance to the White House, off the closed Pennsylvania Avenue, when her cell phone chimes.
She answers with “Himel” and it’s her team member, Aldo Sloan, the former FBI agent who’s now with the Agency.
“Noa?” he asks. “You got a minute?”
“Barely,” she says. “What’s up?”
