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He rolls onto his right side, where his ribs don’t hurt as much.
Tries to focus on his surroundings, what possible weaknesses there might be in this concrete cell, and what he can do to escape.
He smiles at that. The brave, captured CIA officer, limping off to freedom.
The sound of the door unlocking.
Doesn’t feel like mealtime.
Maybe it’s Chang Wanquan, coming in for a second round.
If so, Benjamin is going to do his best to get within biting range, either a finger or ankle or cheek. This time he’s going to draw blood.
He hears the door opening.
Still on his side, Benjamin says, “Is this the brave Wanquan, coming in to beat up an injured man?”
A woman’s voice says, “No, it’s not.”
He blinks hard, slowly rolls over onto the other side, ignoring the shooting pains and burning in his ribs, bones, muscles, and tendons.
Standing in front of him …
It can’t be.
“Hello, Ben,” says Chin Lin.
CHAPTER 63
DALE LOOMIS OF Loomis Worldwide is sitting nervously in a comfortable chair just outside of the Oval Office.
What an afternoon he’s had.
A scheduled meeting with engineers who had the latest schematics for a wind farm off Catalina Island was about to begin over at a conference room in Crystal City, when he had gotten a phone call from an old friend of his who is the deputy minister of the Ministry of Commerce in Beijing. It must have been very late at night or very early in the morning when the urgent call came through. His friend was direct and to the point:
“You need to see your president as soon as you can, and tell him that talks need to take place.”
“Talks?” Dale asked. “What kind of talks?”
“He’ll know. Just do it. As soon as you can.”
Dale protested, “Wait, this is way out of line. How do you expect me to see President Barrett on such short notice? His day is scheduled down to the minute!”
“Find a way,” came the sharp voice from the man. “Or you and your various companies will never do business, ever again, in Chinaor elsewhere in the Pacific, and certain documents will be released to the news media that will ruin you. Your choice.”
And after the call was disconnected, Dale realized that his old friend was anything but.
Yet a miracle of some sort had occurred, because he had called the deputy chief of staff—everyone in DC knew Quinn Lawrence, the supposed chief of staff, was a weakling—and here he is, just outside the Oval Office.
“Five minutes,” the deputy warned him. “That’s it.”
Dale rubs his moist hands across his pants.
Five minutes will be plenty.
But what the hell is going on now between the United States and China? Oh, the relationship is strained over human rights issues, trade, foreign policy, and China’s aggressive moves in the Pacific, but all of those issues are decades old.
From what he’s observed in the news over the past weeks, nothing untoward is going on with China that’s not expected, and that frightens him.
