Skibird, page 14
“And you suspect?”
“I have considered many things, General. Moles in our Antarctic program,” he was careful to not suggest anyone within the FSB itself, “on behalf of the Chinese. Moles in the Chinese CMC who informed us. Informants at Davis Station. Each scenario is presently no more than highly unlikely conjectures.”
“And?” Murov wanted his opinion. Turgenev forged ahead.
“Those each are so unlikely—a mole risking being caught for such a seemingly trivial occurrence as a lost cargo flight—that it would be much simpler to trace back to the root cause, the crash itself. It took me seven hours to report the crash to Colonel Romanoff as he had left absolute orders not to be disturbed.”
If it turned out he wasn’t dead, Murov’s look said that Romanoff’s career was over.
“By that time, the storm had blown out and the Australians must have noticed the crash. They called in the American crash-investigation team. Perhaps they called the Americans instead of their own people knowing that it was a dangerous political situation, our cargo plane crashed in Australian territory.”
“And the Chinese?”
“I found one unconfirmed rumor that the CMC had a prior dealing with what may have been the same investigation team involving a Chinese military jet that crashed in Taiwan. If this is so, might they have a working relationship? Perhaps limited to informational updates, but a relationship nonetheless.”
Murov sat back heavily in his chair, the first sign of weariness he had shown in Turgenev’s presence. “The Chinese cooperating with the Americans?”
“Not unlikely. The West is their largest trade partner. Despite any other animosity, the West might cooperate on such a basis as their relations with us sour.”
Murov glared at him.
“Your pardon, General. I try to follow such relations. My father was also interested in them.” And he had been a good party man. Murov was a careful man and would surely have looked into Turgenev’s background. To any thinking person, it was impossible to deny the miliary conflict in the former Soviet Bloc and the threats to end all cooperation on the International Space Station. The cancellation of Soyuz launches for other nations must be costing billions. Of course, it was an era in Russia where thinking was a dangerous trait.
“Recommendations, Turgenev?”
And here he was being asked to think. There was no other option.
“The Americans can not easily depart Zhongshan Station without our knowing. The Chinese icebreaker supply ship has arrived but that seems unlikely as a route of departure. That means they must leave using our shared skiway at Progress. The station master will keep me apprised of any changes.”
General Murov stared at him in silence again.
Turgenev again did his best not to show anything. He’d done well, hadn’t he? Please tell him he’d done well.
“Keep me informed of any developments. Try to find out what happened to Romanoff. Make sure the plane was disposed of. You may base your operations from Colonel Romanoff’s office on the second floor. Especially let me know if the Chinese woman or the Americans move so much as a finger. Report to me, only to me. Anytime day or night.”
Turgenev rose to his feet, saluted, and left before the general could change his mind. Romanoff’s office. Perhaps one day he’d have Romanoff’s rank and power as well.
This time he managed to breathe again as he took the stairs down to the lower story.
28
“Why did you do that?”
Daiyu managed not to cringe at the tone in General Liú Zuocheng’s voice. Zhongshan Station rarely had sufficient bandwidth for video calls. Now she wished that she hadn’t demanded that they clear all other traffic for her to make one as his glare only emphasized the annoyance of his tone.
The secure communications room could fit two chairs, but not three. One more could stand, but not two. She sat alone, after chasing out the technician once he had made the connection and closing the door on the irate station master’s face.
“The Americans were departing the area, whether or not I was with them. This created a window of opportunity. I only sought to make time for you to instruct me regarding your wishes.” Keep it ever so humble, Daiyu. That is how you have survived so long. “They can be allowed to depart by themselves when their plane arrives. Or I can accompany them as you deem best.”
“And you do not know why their general sent them such a plane across the entire width of the continent?” Was Zuocheng’s scowl easing?
“Neither do they. Their Miranda Chase asked to fly back to her American labs by the route they arrived and was overruled.”
The general was correct in many aspects, bringing the Americans here was a problematic decision. It would be far too easy for them to see the bare fingertip-hold Zhongshan Station had on Antarctica. Surmising the devastating impact upon the station’s supplies if the Skibird did indeed require refueling would also be obvious.
For the third year in a row, the Xue Long icebreaker supply ship had caught in hard ice thirty-five kilometers from the station and not entered the bay to unload close by the shore.
Station Master Hu had given her a long lecture about the poor placement of the station. Yes, it was in one of the rare, bare ground oases on the continent. But unlike the Russian station across the narrow peninsula that separated them, Zhongshan was placed in a deep embayment mostly barricaded by rocky islands. The geography might keep sea storms at a distance, but it had been discovered too late that it also trapped the ice close to shore.
And he’d protested that they weren’t allowed to ask for help from the greedy Russians. Despite the two stations being so close together, relations had deteriorated until the sole point of cooperation was China’s lease of use on the Russian skiway. They desperately needed to build their own, though it would be far less conveniently placed. The closest good site was high on the ice plateau.
The sea ice was too fractured between Zhongshan and the ship to make a road. All of the one thousand tonnes of supplies would have to be transferred by helicopter. All nonessentials would be left aboard.
That included spare fuel.
The rare large cargo jets were required to carry round-trip fuel. To fully refuel an American Skibird, at any price per liter, could prove disastrous over the twelve months until the next voyage of the Xue Long.
Matters were so dire that many scientists who had anticipated a long summer’s research would be flown out to depart on the icebreaker. The winter crew would be painfully slim, fewer than ten, perhaps only five. If the Skibird needed a full refuel, there might be no winter crew. If the ship was delayed next year, they might have to abandon the station by air for lack of heating oil.
Yet that was not what the Americans must see. With the ship in, fresh food was plentiful. Accommodations for the six hours they would be here had been created by emptying individual’s rooms into a neighbor’s room and assigning both occupants to work double shifts. The rooms were warm and clean, each big enough for a single bed, a tiny desk, and a small set of drawers. The ones she’d requisitioned for them—and herself—had private toilets and showers.
She had decided the station master could report the entire array of complaints to his superior and they would never reach the general’s ear, nor would he care if they did.
“How soon does their plane arrive?”
“Five hours, General. They are currently refueling at their South Pole station.”
There had been long delays reaching here. First the Australians had to survey an area for safety before calling up their helicopter. That in turn had been busy working to service their own supply ship. The logistics to travel a hundred kilometers in Antarctica from Whoop Whoop to her plane at Davis to Zhongshan Station had required six hours. During her days as a star ultra-marathon runner for the People’s Liberation Army, she’d been able to run that distance in under seven hours.
He stared out of the screen at her. Liú Zuocheng was the polar opposite of her dead husband Zhang Ru, may the bastard rest uncomfortably in hell. Ru had been stocky, constantly full of bravado, strong as an ox, and greedier than any pig ever born. Zuocheng’s thoughts were as long and quiet as his face. His words moved slowly. When he did act, only those closest too him would see it happen. The delicate, silent puppet master.
She would take that lesson herself and remained in silence while he planned.
He eventually offered a ghost of a smile, “I believe I have a call to place. Remain where you are.”
And he was gone.
29
He’d been having a gloriously pleasant dream. He and Lizzy had been curled up together, her slender body spooned inside his as they lay on a vast, perfect field of ice. It wasn’t cold at all. Only the two of them, together in the vast silence, without any disturbance.
Then a harsh ring and the ice beneath them fractured explosively.
By the second ring, Drake was awake, in bed, holding his personal phone, and shivering.
The moment before he answered, he noted that the caller’s ID was blocked. Only Lizzy and his three kids used this number. Lizzy was here beside him, grumbling about being woken up but not fully awake. The kids didn’t use blocked numbers.
The only other person who had this number was dead—at least he hoped to God that report was accurate. And his number had always been blocked.
“Hello?”
“Good morning. I am sorry to wake you.” The voice was familiar. Chinese. Male. With the perfect non-accent of American English as spoken in the Pacific Northwest, especially compared to Zhang Ru’s heavy Chinese accent. Pacific? Yes, that was the last place he’d heard this voice. Across a table, at the far corner of the Pacific.
“Good morning, General.” Liú Zuocheng. “May I suggest that we encrypt this call using the name of the country where we last met?” The only time they’d ever met, Brunei.
They both did so.
“I hope that you do not mind my using this number, General,” General Liú stated. Despite the encryption, neither of them were using their names. He must have obtained Drake’s private number from Zhang Ru.
“What is the state of the prior holder of this number?” Half test and half begging that—
“In a place his remains will never be discovered or mourned.” Zuocheng replied.
“Then I am glad to speak with you, despite the hour.” He went to move away to not disturb Lizzy further. She snagged him by the back of his pajama bottoms and kept him on the bed. Then she wrapped herself around him from behind. This wasn’t the moment for— She rested her chin on his shoulder so that her ear ended up close by his phone. Right. He eased the phone away enough for them both to listen without the audible change of switching to speakerphone.
“I would like to discuss an interest we have. It is not in common.” Liú replied.
“This should be good.” What little tact Drake could usually muster continued to sleep comfortably on the soft pillow.
“I would like to discuss failed states.”
“Libya? Somalia? Texas?” The last didn’t earn him so much as a polite chuckle. Please don’t let this be about Taiwan.
“I should have said a failing state.”
“That doesn’t narrow it down in the slightest: Myanmar, the Congo, and again Texas.” Still no chuckle, but a poke in the ribs from Lizzy—a sharp one, like shut up.
But then Lizzy shifted to his other ear and whispered, “Russia?”
He echoed her comment as she shifted once more to his other shoulder to listen.
“Most astute.”
“And you say that we have an interest, not in common, regarding this country?”
“Regarding this country’s actions and assets on a certain continent.”
Russia was heavily involved in at least four of the seven continents: Asia and Europe, especially former Soviet Bloc countries at the moment, Africa through the use of their Wagner Group mercenaries—and Antarctica.
Miranda had mentioned a Wang Daiyu. A quick lookup had revealed almost nothing. Wife of Zhang Ru. Former (?) Army, division and rank unknown, skills unknown. He’d sent a note to Director Clarissa Reese to see what the CIA had on her; he should have marked it urgent.
Ru was dead and Daiyu was in Antarctica, which meant—
Half asleep was his only excuse. Daiyu wasn’t merely Zhang Ru’s widow, she was General Liú Zuocheng’s tool. She had reported to him about events in Antarctica, and he had called Drake.
“You have spoken to your operative there regarding what my team found on the Russian plane.” Drake wanted to test the waters. He’d read reports that the Russian President was working to convince his Chinese counterpart to withdraw from the Antarctic Treaty System and open the continent to mining. Militarization would, of course, be the first step in Russian thinking.
“Yes, I’ve spoken with her. And while we are not wholly averse to an alternate scenario for the use of Antarctica, we find the arming of stations to…lack finesse.” Zuocheng had definitely understood the question.
Lizzy shifted to his other ear again. “Especially as the Zhongshan Station is five miles from the Russian Progress Station.”
“I can see how any tactical changes at Progress Station could be worrisome.” The real question remained, what was Zuocheng, and by extension China, after?
“Are you also aware,” Zuocheng asked, “that Russian involvement in Antarctica has fallen from more than twenty stations to a mere five on the continent?”
“Five that now have unknown degrees of Russian preparation for military control of Antarctica.” He was fully awake now.
“Yes,” Zuocheng sounded thoughtful. “Unknown. It is such an interesting word to use about a land that in itself is so filled with unknowns. Like the reason you have sent one of your precious LC-130H Skibirds racing across the breadth of the continent to gather up a civilian air-crash investigation team.”
It had been a gut-reaction decision while he was speaking with Holly about the cause of the explosion—four Russian Kalibr cruise missiles where they were never supposed to be. What else was already there?
He’d called President Cole immediately afterward, catching him on the way to bed. Roy confirmed the action, as Drake himself didn’t have the power to make orders, only to advise.
Drake hadn’t been happy when the plan shifted to land an Air National Guard asset at a Chinese station. Less so again, when he’d discovered that the Chinese station used a Russian skiway, but he’d deemed that to be low priority when the logistics were explained. Now he was less sure.
The question was, how far could he trust Zuocheng? More than Ru, which meant marginally more than not at all.
“What are you asking?”
“I would like to suggest a small detour for your team.”
“To where?”
“Why doesn’t this sound good?” Lizzy whispered in his opposite ear.
“Nothing occurs at Progress Station without our awareness. It lies a mere eight kilometers from our station at Zhongshan and we are confident in our knowledge of their actions. A station, I might add, that exists to little purpose except to support Vostok Station.”
Lizzy merely tapped his other shoulder without removing her ear from beside his phone.
Yes, it was definitely the other shoe.
“If our Skibird were to…” Drake paused.
“Perhaps declare an emergency.”
“…and place a top aircraft investigation team…”
“Along with an individual who has afforded your team services at our Zhongshan Station.”
“…along with your aide. She might then report any observations without arousing suspicions.”
“Precisely.”
Drake turned enough to look face-to-face at Lizzy. Even in the dim bedroom, lit only by the small nightlight in the bathroom, he could see that she was thinking hard and fast. He knew her first-level answer already as there was such minimal information on Antarctic activity in general. Add on the limited number of satellite passes, which hadn’t previously targeted those remote stations, and he knew the intel-gathering part of Lizzy’s NRO brain was in high gear.
But she would also factor that desire out to give him advice.
He himself was leaning toward agreeing unless she thought of a strong negative.
Merely for the chance of starting a bridge with the CMC’s senior vice-chairman, it was tempting. Perhaps weaning the PRC’s leadership from the Russian Federation—that too could have global consequences to America’s advantage. The Russians had done the groundwork for him in Eastern Europe, by proving that a massive quantity of strength was not the same as a quality of strength combined with an opponent’s intense commitment. Definitely a content lesson for the PRC regarding any move against Taiwan.
Lizzy’s head tip said she didn’t see any obvious crevasses for him to fall into.
All that meant was that, if a crevasse of Chinese manufacture awaited them, neither of them could see it. It didn’t mean that it wasn’t there.
General Liú had waited patiently, unlike Ru who was always in such a hurry.
“General, pending approval, that is acceptable. We may instead couch it as an Antarctic Survey inspection team.”
“Yes, that is perhaps a more reasonable option. It would allow a wider access to their station.”
Drake was thinking fast, “Perhaps you could have your Zhongshan Station Manager provide an instructional tour to both my team and your representative to assist them in presenting a convincing appearance.” His bet was seventy-thirty against.
“I will suggest that immediately.”
Drake lost, but it also told him that if the Chinese were militarizing Antarctica, they hadn’t done so at Zhongshan—yet.
“We will be in touch,” and Zuocheng was gone.
