The Secret Cardinal (26 page)

36

CHIFENG, CHINA

Peng Shi arrived at Chifeng Prison shortly after sunset. The driver brought the sedan to a stop at what was left of the main gate and submitted their papers for inspection. Peng's eyes lingered on the blackened hulk that sat off to the side and wondered about the men who had been trapped inside as the vehicle burned. His thoughts drifted back to August of last year when he was aboard the destroyer
Hangzhou
. There, he had observed the recovery of a charred space capsule containing the remains of three murdered yuhangyuans—remains that Nolan Kilkenny located for China.

With the visitors cleared for entry, the guard directed Peng's driver to the administration building where they would be met. Metal halide lights bathed the prison grounds and buildings with an artificial glow devoid of the warmer visible wavelengths, causing the red sedan to appear a deep maroon. The placement of the lights around the prison all but eliminated shadows, a security measure that reinforced the unnaturalness of the scene.

The driver guided the sedan into a visitor's parking space in front of the administration building. A uniformed guard and a middle-aged man in a gray suit stood waiting for them by the entry. As Peng got out of the car and collected his briefcase, the man approached him.

“Welcome, Mister Peng. I am Tang, manager of the Chifeng Brickyard.”

“Good evening,” Peng replied. “Where can I find Mister Liu?”

“Mister Liu was unavoidably detained,” Tang replied. “He is expected back at any time. You may wait for him in the warden's office.”

“I prefer to make better use of my time. Tell me, Mister Tang, is
the officer who received the foreign prisoner last night available? I have some questions for him.”

“Lieutenant Kwan is right here,” Tang replied.

“There was also a report of a guard detailed to observe the executions who survived the attack. Is he also available?”

“Neither man may leave the prison grounds without the permission of Mister Liu.”

“Good. I would like Kwan to escort me to the yard where the executions took place. Have the other guard meet us there.”

“I will see to it.”

“Thank you, Mister Tang. Lieutenant Kwan, take me along the path used by the escaping truck.”

“This way, sir,” Kwan replied.

Through the glare of the prison's lights, Peng found it difficult to see the terrain much beyond the perimeter fence. Last night, those who attacked the prison watched from beyond the halo, exploiting the prison's nocturnal blind spot.

“Have you located the firing positions yet?” Peng asked.

“Yes. We found four used PF-89 launch tubes within two hundred meters of both gates.”

“Serial numbers?”

“Unreadable. The tubes have been sent on to an army lab for further analysis.”

“Describe the foreigner who was brought in last night.”

Kwan collected his thoughts for a moment. “A little taller than me, about two meters in height, eighty kilos. He had red hair and many freckles on his face and hands. There were deep bruises on his face, neck, and hands, but I've seen men arrive looking worse. He was dressed in a standard prison uniform.”

“Did he speak at all?”

“He made no sound the entire time I was with him.”

“How long was that?”

“Less than ten minutes, just the time required to escort him from the transport to a cell.”

“Was he searched?”

“No, we were ordered not to.”

They rounded the corner of a building and entered an open yard with the motor pool at the far end.

“This is where executions are carried out,” Kwan announced. “Prisoners are brought out of that door and escorted down here. Once dead, they are usually loaded onto a truck and taken to the crematorium in Chifeng.”

A guard stepped through the door Kwan had pointed to and walked toward them. After closing the distance, he snapped to attention and saluted the lieutenant.

“At ease,” Kwan said after returning the salute. “Mister Peng, this is Au-Yang, one of the guards.”

Au-Yang was younger than Kwan, in his late teens or early twenties, with a full, round face and thickset body.

“You were present at the execution this morning, yes?” Peng asked.

“I was part of the detail that brought the foreign prisoner down to the yard.”

“Were you armed?”

“Yes, with a pistol.”

“Then why are you still alive?” Peng asked pointedly.

“Excuse me?” Au-Yang replied, puzzled.

“I understand that anyone in the yard with a weapon was killed.”

“I left the yard after the prisoners were executed. I was not feeling well,” Au-Yang explained, placing a hand on his stomach.

“Your first execution?”

Au-Yang nodded sheepishly.

“Where were the prisoners executed?” Peng asked.

Au-Yang looked at the ground and found a pair of black stains on the gravel. “Here, and here.”

“And where was the truck parked, the one that fled with the two prisoners?”

Au-Yang pointed to a spot several feet away.

“Did anything unusual happen while you were present?”

“Before he was shot, the old one said something I didn't understand,” Au-Yang replied.

“What did he say?”

“I'm not sure, it wasn't Chinese. I think it was English, but I don't really know.”

“Was he speaking to the foreigner?” Peng asked.

“I don't think so. He couldn't have known the man was there.”

“Why is that?”

“The prisoners were brought out separately, and both wore hoods,” Au-Yang explained. “They never saw each other.”

“And everyone else who was present was Chinese?”

“Yes.”

Peng tried to imagine the scene and empathized with the young guard. Peng had killed before, but he did so only when necessary and took no joy in it. Capital punishment, he felt, should be reserved for only the most heinous murderers, and he found it troubling when it was applied as punishment for political crimes.

“That's all for now. You may return to your duties.” Peng dismissed Au-Yang, then turned to Kwan. “Please show me where the prisoners were held.”

“This way,” Kwan replied.

The interior of the prison was eerily quiet. The inmates were locked down, the guards extraordinarily vigilant. Kwan led Peng down long gray corridors, their footsteps echoing off the smooth hard surfaces. They stopped in front of a heavy steel door stenciled with the number 342.

“This cell is where the foreign prisoner was held,” Kwan announced.

“Open it,” Peng commanded.

Kwan radioed the request to the monitoring station and released the door. Peng peered into the dark cell, then stepped inside and shuddered. The cell was cold, as if the thick concrete was siphoning the heat from his body. He sat on the floor, trying to understand the mind of the previous occupant. Even with the door fully open, the cell enveloped him like a tomb. Peng wondered how anyone could retain their sanity locked inside this room for any length of time, and yet Kilkenny had volunteered to do so.

“What are you doing in there?” an irritable voice demanded from the corridor.

Peng turned and saw that Kwan had stepped away from the doorway. The silhouette of a different man filled the opening.

“Thinking,” Peng replied.

“Unless you prefer to remain in there with your thoughts for an extended period of time, I suggest you come out now.”

“Of course,” Peng said.

Peng rose and walked out into the corridor where he met Liu and a pair of guards. The three men looked flushed from exertion. Liu stood slightly taller than Peng and glowered at the younger man.

“This cell and the one that housed Yin Daoming should be searched thoroughly,” Peng suggested.

“For what?”

“Anything that would have allowed the two prisoners to communicate—something very small that could have been smuggled in without arousing Lieutenant Kwan's suspicions. I can think of no other reason Kilkenny would place himself in that cell other than to communicate his intent to Yin. And this morning, Yin certainly knew something was going to happen. His last words were in English—I assume a message to Kilkenny.”

“If a device was smuggled in, wouldn't the foreigner have taken it with him?” Liu asked dismissively.

“Perhaps, but that possibility shouldn't deter us from looking for evidence. Are you not seeking the source of the RPGs?”

“We are, but the priority is the manhunt.”

“Of course,” Peng agreed, “but in our zeal to recapture Yin, we must not sacrifice our investigation of the broader conspiracy.”

“Close that cell,” Liu ordered Kwan. “No one is to enter this cell or Yin's until after a forensics team has completed a thorough search. Peng, come with me.”

As the junior man, Peng trailed Liu by a half step, and with a pair of guards in tow, they moved down the corridors in silence. Liu was fuming, though Peng suspected it had more to do with the escape than his brief investigation. When they reached the warden's office, Liu dismissed the guards.

“Report,” Liu demanded of Peng.

“The foreign prisoner and the woman known as Captain Jiao have
been identified as Nolan Kilkenny and Roxanne Tao—both of the United States.”

“So the Americans are involved with the Vatican in this?”

“A strong possibility,” Peng replied, “but the level of that involvement is not clear. Nor is their motive. Of course, Beijing is asking what the Americans could hope to gain from this provocative course of action.”

“Has Beijing moved to enhance border security?” Liu asked.

“Yes. All border crossings are temporarily closed until sufficient forces are in place to process each individual and search every vehicle. Units of the army and air force are patrolling our borders with North Korea, Russia, and Mongolia. Army units have also been stationed at all transportation hubs, and all travelers within the country are required to provide identity papers. Coastal defense is on heightened-alert status and has stepped up patrols in our territorial waters.

“Beijing has also requested assistance from Mongolia in preventing Yin's escape. Photographs of Yin, Tao, and Kilkenny have been delivered to the authorities in Ulaanbaatar, along with a list of their crimes. Our formal request for immediate extradition of these criminals was accompanied by a diplomatic note indicating cooperation in this matter would have a strong bearing on the foreign trade and investment package currently under consideration before the central committee.”

“Effectively closing that avenue of escape,” Liu concluded, pleased.

“The local army unit is working with Chifeng police to cordon off the city,” Peng continued, “assuming that's where they went after fleeing the prison and that they may still be there.”

“Are they also searching the surrounding countryside and rounding up known and suspected members of Yin's cult?”

“A system of beliefs that survives intact for two millennia and boasts over a billion followers is hardly a cult,” Peng offered. “But yes, those with ties to the underground church are being located for questioning.”

Liu appeared satisfied with Peng's report. “I was informed you are familiar with Kilkenny and Tao.”

Peng nodded. “That is why I was sent to assist you.”

“Tell me about them.”

“Until a few years ago, Kilkenny was a junior officer in the American Navy's special forces. He is presently a businessman involved in technology research and investment. He is also connected to the CIA, but tangentially and not in the agency's direct employ. He was married briefly to an astronaut who died this past August. I met him during the previous summer, when he was investigating the incident involving their space shuttle. In my opinion, Nolan Kilkenny is an honorable man.”

“Honorable men do not break criminals out of prison.”

“I suspect he does not view Yin as a criminal—they share the same faith.”

“And Tao?”

“She is a spy,” Peng said matter-of-factly. “Much of her background is unclear, but she now runs an investment company with ties to both Kilkenny and the CIA. Several years ago, under another identity, she operated a widespread espionage network in China. That network was dismantled, but she eluded capture and the Sixth Bureau lost track of her. I uncovered her during my surveillance of Kilkenny. If possible, Beijing would like Tao taken alive.”

“And the others?” Liu asked.

“Their fates are left to your discretion.”

37

CHIFENG, CHINA

After Yin's mass, the Night Stalkers completed flight prep on the BATs while the team members still clad in civilian clothes changed for the trip across the border. The children, much to Kilkenny's discomfort, huddled around the doorway of the yurt, peeking in with rapt fascination as he changed. He further entertained them by demonstrating the chameleonlike characteristics of his SEALskin suit, changing from a solid dark gray to camouflage stripes.

“Having fun?” Tao asked, drawn into the yurt by the children's laughter.

“They are. At least my striptease was only PG, or I would have had to post a guard.”

“Or charge admission.”

“I can't think of anyone who would pay to see me naked. How's your suit?”

Tao did a slow spin, allowing Kilkenny to view her at all angles. The sleek nanotech fabric wrapped her lithe curves like a second skin.