Two Peasants and a President (10 page)

It was a stunning announcement, equivalent to Iran threatening to close the Strait of
Hormuz
but with far more power backing it up.  While Iran was well aware that it would ultimately lose any confrontation with the United States Navy, China evidently now felt itself in a position to back up those words. 

To those who had been following the rise of Chinese military power, this was hardly a surprise; rather it was an inflection point in a plan that China had been implementing for many years.   Some had felt that it would be several years before China would feel confident enough to make such a bold move, but experienced China hands understood that at some point it would become inevitable.  Few remembered the prescient words of Deng Xiaoping, the man largely responsible for China’s rise as an economic powerhouse: “Hide your strength, bide your time.” 

Ambassador Li assumed that his government was not sharing all the details of the incident with him; it seldom did.  But he was well aware that US-China relations had just entered a dangerous new phase.  What had been notably absent in the Chinese declaration was any pretense of diplomatic language.  It was a clear threat, a line which China now dared the United States to cross. 

It was approximately 6:00 pm when there was a knock on the door of the ambassador’s office.  As his aide entered, the ambassador noticed the
DVD in his hand.

“Yes, what is it?”
he
said crisply.

“Sorry to bother you, Mr. Ambassador, but I believe you will want to watch this,” replied the aide. 

“The familiar voice and visage of the CBC News anchor once again greeted the ambassador.   He had watched her broadcasts many times, some with amusement, occasionally with concern, but this time he had the feeling that there would be nothing amusing in her words.  He was not proven wrong.
By the time her report had concluded, the ambassador’s normally stony countenance had drained like melting mascara from his face.  His aide thought he detected a slight trembling in his hands. 

It would not be necessary to transmit the file contained on the DVD to Beijing because they too made daily recordings of all major news broadcasts.  Based on what he had seen, the ambassador assumed his private phone would be ringing in a matter of seconds.  He was not disappointed.  After the usual procedures to ensure that the call was secure, he heard the familiar voice of the most senior aide to the Chinese president. 

“Good evening, Mr. Ambassador.  I assume that you have already been informed of this evening’s American news broadcasts.”

“I have,” replied the ambassador.

“Then you know,” continued the aide, “that it casts us in a rather bad light.  Furthermore, it forces us to take additional measures, both here and in America.”  The aide obviously was not going to specify what those measures were.  “The President,” he continued, “has instructed me to advise you that a certain personnel will be in the air in approximately one hour.  You, yourself, will attend to formalities at the airport.”

“I will see to it personally,” replied the ambassador.

The secure link clicked off and the ambassador was again alone with his aide, who noted that the ambassador’s face was now a pale shade of gray.  Ambassador Li was a career diplomat, but he was also something of a hist
o
rian, and he knew well the risks involved in China’s gambit.  China was now employing its considerable leverage in a way it had never dared before.  It was also backing the young American president into a corner. 

17

About an hour after
robo
-doc visited her, the food came, that is, if you could call it food.  A plastic tray, a plastic bowl of rice, some veggies and meat she couldn’t identify.  And chopsticks. 
Oh God, Not chopsticks
, she thought.  What had been kind of romantic on the junk, now seemed like a cruel joke.  She left the meat, not wanting to know what it was, and ate the rice and veggies with her fingers. 

A book had been delivered with her food. 
Uncle Tom’s Cabin
was printed on its binding.  She threw it at the wall. 
The sons of bitches kidnap me, throw me i
n a stinking cell and then
try to feed me propaganda!
The rest of the day was boring and lonely.  She thought about Ray and about home, wondering if their folks had realized they were missing yet. 

But at least she knew it was day because when they opened the door, she could see narrow, horizontal windows along the top of the other side of the hall.  She marveled at how she had come to cherish such seemingly insi
g
nificant bits of information, but it was important to her because it provided a measure of time.  Here one grasped at any tiny piece of reality, any shred of humanity. 

The next morning they brought her fruit, fruit she could recognize.  She didn’t want to give them the pleasure of seeing her en
joy it, but the minute they
closed the door, she devoured it hungrily.  An hour later, the lock turned again.  The same man came in and looked at her, this time his gaze lingering.  His eyes made a quick scan of the room, and then he ushered in the cleaning lady and took his perch across the hall. 

The woman started her ritual.  Holly saw that there was a certain di
g
nity in this woman that she hadn’t noticed before.  Her stooped and tired body sheltered a strong spirit, a spirit that would not be quenched by hardship or oppression.  The woman sensed Holly staring at her and she paused and turned.  She seemed to want to say something, something that neither la
n
guage nor circumstance would allow her to voice.  Then she smiled, r
e
garding Holly for what seemed like a long time. 

Five minutes later, the woman had pushed her bucket and mop out the door and was gone.

On the third day, the suitcase appeared.  She had given up hope of ever
seeing it again.  Everything was there, the makeup kit, the clothe
s . . . she paused to examine them
.  The filthy clothes she had changed out of and balled up were there too, but someone had laundered them, she was sure of it.  And there was another surprise
–
her make up mirror.  She started to look at herself, but paused, afraid to see what she had become.   Finally she couldn’t resist and held it up.  A gaun
t face stared back at her, struggling
to hold back tears. 
No more tears, no more tears
, she told herself for the hundredth time.   She knew she needed to be strong for with the suitcase came thoughts she had tried to banish, thoughts of her
uncertain
future. 

Once again, after she had eaten her morning fruit, the man and the cleaning lady returned.  The cleaning lady seemed nervous now.  But once again, when the man seated outside could not see her, she turned to Holly and smiled.  This time there were unspoken words in the smile, something she wanted Holly to understand.  She seemed to be looking at the sink.  Then the  man outside grunted, which brought her upright, a sudden flash of fear in her eyes.  In an instant she’d assumed again the tired, frail visage that wandered the halls with her mop and pail.  But now Holly sensed that it was a persona that she projected and that there was far more inside that she was hiding. 

A little while later Holly went to the sink to wash.  She had developed a routine.  During the periods when no one usually came, she would soak a washcloth and then go into the corner where she couldn’t been seen and wash herself.  She couldn’t always tell when someone was outside and she had no intention of allowing them to see her unclothed. 

She reached for the faucet handle and noticed something in the drain.  It had almost dropped through the small holes.  It was a
narrow
, tightly rolled piece of paper.  She pulled it out gently and hid it under the washcloth.  Then she moved to the corner like she was going to wash.  Carefully unrolling it, she saw the words: 
“
I am friend.
You have family? I try talk to.”
  Holly’s heart leaped in her chest.  The message was crude, but it was clear.

Then she heard the lock in the door turn.  Holly quickly folded the washcloth over the paper and set it on the stack of towels. 
Robo
-doc walked in, as usual without knocking.  He looked over at her standing there near the sink.  She was sure he would hear her racing heart with his stethoscope.  He was looking at her strangely, sensing her fear as she struggled not to panic.

“I was abo
ut to bathe, you startled me,”
she said defensively.  To her enormous relief, he seemed to buy her story and again motioned her to turn around.  When he was done, he asked her how she was feeling.

“Oh, I feel just great,” she said.  “I’m in a prison cell, I don’t know what happened to my husband and I never know when some pervert’s going to burst in on me and catch me naked!  Does that answer your question?” she
glared at him.  So much for acting timid.

It was like she had just said “fine, thank you.”
  No expression, no anger.
Then he pointed one of those things with a light that a doctor uses into her eyes.  It was as if he was examining the knots in a two-by-four.  She wanted him to leave like she hadn’t ever wanted anything in her life, but he seemed to want to examine her more closely this time, like he enjoyed to
r
turing her with his despised presence.  Finally
robo
-doc stood back and started at her for several seconds before packing up and leaving.

She listened for awhile for any sound outside the door.  She knew they could easily sneak up on her in their knock-off Reeboks.  But she had a reason to be in the corner now and she picked up the washcloth, throwing a towel over her shoulder. 

Carefully unwrapping the paper, she looked again in disbeli
ef.  The words were still there;
she hadn’t been dreaming. Then she rolled it up and put it in her bra.  There was a song in her heart, but the accompaniment was in a minor key, menacing.  Her mind struggled to understand what was happe
n
ing.  She sensed that the cleaning lady was not a plant, something about the way her spirit shined through that smile.  And her fear was obviously real, you can’t fake that.  That meant that the little Chinese cleaning lady could be risking her life to help.  But why?

18

“That cruise outfit in Hong Kong didn‘t sound like it was trying very hard to be helpful,” said Sally.  “The guy sounded friendly at first, but when I mentioned Mr. & Mrs. Walker, he sounded evasive.  I managed to pry out of him that they were on the cruise, were dropped off at the dock afterward and headed back to their hotel.  When I tried to ask him if there were any susp
i
cious people at the dock or anything unusual about the cruise, he clammed up.”  

“I called their hotel again,”
Maggie chimed in.  “Spoke to the manager this time.  He said they never came back, suggested I call the Consulate; we don’t have an embassy there.  They passed me off to American Citizens Services who say there are no reports of arrests, hospitalizations, deaths or anything else for Ray and
Holly.  Oh, and I called Brett;
he’
s on his way back from San Diego.”

“The travel agency says they’ve used this cruise company for several years, but their name was changed a few months ago,” said Jim.  “I asked them if the people they’ve been dealing with changed too.  He said yes.”

“A
s I suspected,” said Richard, “t
he State Department didn’t exactly go into emergency mode when I told them that we have family missing in Hong Kong.  They pointed me to a site online where I can make a report, but they admitted it doesn’t really get revved up until someone’s been missing for two weeks.  While I was on the site, I checked on visas for Hong Kong and China.
  You don’
t need a visa for Hong Kong, but you do for mainland China.  Their application process takes 4 days.”

“Based on what we’ve uncovered so far, it’s obvious I need to go to Hong Kong and check out the cruise company,” said Richard.

“Why you?” asked Maggie.

“Because I’m
retired and not needed at home;
I’m the logical one to go.”

“Richard,” interjected Jim, “I don’t think you should do this alone.  If you go missi
ng, then we’ll really be looking
for a paddle.  I can get time off and let’s face it, you’re gonna be in hostile territory and you’ll need backup.  Besides, the love of my life is out there somewhere.
I can‘t sit around back
here doing nothing.”

“Brett’s on his way back,” interjected Maggie.  “He says to count him in on whatever we’re doing.”

“Sounds like I’ve been out
voted,” said Richard.  Let’s start working up a list for what we’ll need in Hong Kong.  I think we should start the appl
i
cation process for visas to China too, in case this thing leads us across the border.  What concerns me is our military background.  That could be a red flag.  If I were the guy who approves these things, I might wonder what three guys like us find so interesting in China.”