Chapter 29
Gushan, Admiral Li, and one of the admiral’s personal adjutants, a captain by the name of Haifeng, sat in the back of the windowless van on upturned crates like refugees or stowaways.
It wasn’t much of a hardship for Gushan or Haifeng, but the admiral shifted uncomfortably and complained every time the van hit a bump in the uneven road.
As it rounded a turn, he grasped wildly at a hanging strap, nearly falling as his crate tipped over.
If not for the quick assistance of Haifeng, the admiral would have gone tumbling across the back of the empty vehicle.
Gushan turned away, barely able to suppress a laugh. Snickering at an admiral’s misfortunes in public was not a good career move.
With his face back to its normal stoic mask, he whistled for Haifeng, then nodded at the divider separating them from the driver’s compartment. “Get his attention.”
Haifeng banged his fist on the metal panel. The driver opened a plastic slider and looked through it.
“Slow it down,” Gushan ordered.
He had no authority other than the fierce glare in his eyes, but the scruffy-faced driver nodded and handled the last couple miles with more caution.
As they neared their destination, Gushan considered just how far the situation had diverged from the initial plan.
The intended rendezvous on the ice runway was a risky move, but a calculated one.
It was supposed to take place at night, immediately after the hijacking, over international waters.
The location was admittedly a long way from China, but it was also five hundred miles from the nearest swath of NATO territory.
Now they were docked in a Norwegian harbor, riding in windowless van to a clandestine meeting on NATO soil.
And this after trying to sink the NUMA ship to keep it from scouring the rest of the search area.
Gushan shook his head softly. The idea that he’d be ordered to sink an American ship on the high seas, outside of a declared war, was impossible for him to fathom.
But it had happened. To follow that aggression by allowing a politically ambitious rear admiral to meet with some unvetted contact in the dark of night was almost as shocking.
The moves smacked of desperation. But the high command wanted its prize, and they would only trust Li to meet with their secret contact, and so the spit-and-polished admiral had donned some ill-fitting civilian clothes and stepped out of his castle.
And while Gushan and Haifeng were armed and lethal bodyguards, they could easily be outnumbered and overrun if this meeting turned into a trap.
The van pulled to a stop. Through the slider Gushan could see the lights of a quaint street filled with taverns and other shops.
“This is the place,” the driver said. “Go inside. The bartender will show you to a table in the corner.”
Gushan opened the door and looked around.
The street was lit with illumination from shop fronts, streetlamps, and a crisscrossing set of lights strung overhead in a festive fashion.
Snow on the sidewalks and the untraveled sections of the street reflected the illumination and doubled the effect, giving the area a warm glow.
It reminded him of the streets in northern provinces during the Chinese New Year.
He saw nothing to suggest danger, but his sixth sense told him they were walking into trouble. The fact that the driver had an American accent hadn’t helped.
He stepped out of the van and looked down the road, not for trouble this time, but for help.
A short distance away, he spied the white lights of two cars he’d arranged to follow them.
The newly built vehicles were made by a Chinese manufacturer.
They were sleek and electric. Inside were six of his men.
If an ambush occurred, it would help to have backup nearby.
“It’s clear,” Gushan said.
The admiral and his assistant climbed down.
Gushan slammed the door behind them and the van took off.
Hiking across the slush in the gutter of the road, they made their way to the entrance and stepped inside.
The bartender spotted them immediately, leaving his spot behind the large oak bar and directing them to a back corner table in a section that was relatively quiet in comparison to the otherwise boisterous room.
Gushan guessed there were at least sixty people in the bustling establishment.
One group was playing darts; others were watching a World Cup soccer match on a television in the corner.
Everyone was drinking and talking. There were advantages and disadvantages to all of that.
Crowds created a bit of anonymity, but the swirling nature of the scene would make it hard to detect a threat.
All in all, he’d have preferred a dark alley with no one around.
They took their seats. A tray carrying tall glasses filled with golden lager was delivered without a word. The admiral looked at the liquid suspiciously.
“They didn’t bring us here to poison us,” Gushan said. He reached for a glass and took a sip, quickly disappointed with the taste.
Minutes went by. The admiral fidgeted in his seat. No one came to speak with them. “How long do you think we’ll have to wait?” he asked.
As an operative, Gushan had spent plenty of time waiting for clandestine meetings to happen. Sometimes they never did come off. “Until your contact is comfortable. There’s nothing we can do to speed that up. Might as well have a drink.”
Gushan slid a glass toward the admiral and then one toward Haifeng. They sat untouched.
“Suit yourself.” After another sip of the beer, Gushan stood. He had no taste for lager. He wanted something stronger.
“Where are you going?” the admiral asked.
“To the bar,” he said, then offered an explanation. “It’s of no help for us to sit all together. We have one view. We make a single target. I can better watch for threats if I have a different perspective. And your contact may feel less threatened if you’re sitting here alone.”
Haifeng moved to stand, but the admiral wasn’t having that. He motioned for Haifeng to sit back down. Gushan understood. The admiral would feel naked without his bodyguard. He stepped away, leaving the two of them at the corner table and trying to remember what little he knew about Nordic liquors.