Two Peasants and a President (26 page)

Still Baines’ popularity increased by the day.  He had become a star among disenchanted Americans and the working poor.  If there were a presidential election today, he would win by a landslide.  The president was looking weaker and weaker.  To a degree this was good because China needed a president whom they could manipulate.  For their goals to succeed, there must be a man in the White House for whom spending was the only path, a path that ran through China.  The president had to appease China; he had no choice. 

But Baines was weakening the president too much, always pointing out the risk of incurring more and more debt.  If enough people started to believe Baines and not the president, China’s unimpeded march across the South China Sea could be thwarted.  They needed a little more time to build suff
i
cient strength to be able to defeat even the United States Navy.  Baines was putting everything at risk.  He had to go.

The assassination of a sitting senator was not taken lightly.  The bu
n
gled attempt had deeply disturbed Beijing since it had come very close to a disaster that could have destroyed everything.
The piano tuner did have an impeccable reputation; it was said that he had never failed before.  Beijing would have never entrusted anyone else with such a dangerous assignment.  If he failed again, he would not get another chance.  Neither would China.  

45

     
From his perspective, the hotel was ideal, filled with American tourists and businessmen.  No one seemed to even notice h
im as they prepared for tours,
meetings and presentations.  His I-Pad had informed him that there are two hundred and eighty-five Global Fortune 500 companies represented in Tianjin.  The flow of people in and out of the hotel lobby was testament to that. 

He grabbed something to eat and went up to his room, where his I-Pad continued to acquaint him with the city, its land marks and thoroughfares.  In his mind, he traced various routes to the sea.  The sea; its welcoming arms beckoned him like an old friend, but the familiar refuge it afforded lay
miles away and inaccessible even if he were there.

It was around 5:00 in the afternoon when his phone rang.  The voice simply said “Your cab is here, Mr. Davis.”  He threw his back pack over his shoulder and headed to the elevator.  When he stepped outside a cab driver hailed him.  He climbed into the back and as soon as the cab was away from the hotel, the driver turned and introduced himself. 

“My name is Jun, Captain.”  His greeting sounded light-hearted, as if he were about to take the captain to see the sights.  Richard was caught off guard, having anticipated wariness or perhaps even distrust.  He simply looked at the slender young Chinese man with the cherubic face and said: 

“Hello, Jun.”

“We will go to meet some of the others,” Jun announced ma
t
ter-of-factly.  He took many turns, frequently looking up at the rearview mirror. 

“We have to be careful where we take you.  In many places, a tall American like you will stand out.  Then people will talk.”

“How is my granddaughter?” the captain asked. 

“We believe they are treating her well, captain.  For reasons that are obvious, they don’t want anything to happen to her.”

“Is her husband with her?”

“No, they were separated in the beginning.
  I don’t think she even knows
he is still alive,” Jun answered.  “The police always separate families in order to weaken them.”

“How is it that you know these things, Jun?”

“Some of our comrades work in the hospital.  One actually sees them almost every day.  She says the
y sprang from strong roots.”  Looking up at his rearview mirror, he
detected a hint of a smile on the captain’s face.

“How did you come to risk your life to help my family?” Davis asked
.

Several momen
ts passed before Jun answered.

“In June of 1989
,
thousands of Chinese citizens occupied Tiananmen Square seeking one thing: freedom, freedom to speak without fear and fre
e
dom to choose their representatives, the same liberties for which you fought your revolution.  As you may recall, there was even a small version of your Statue of Liberty in the square.  Lit from inside, its glow on that dark night inspired all around it.”

“For awhile it appeared as though the government might for the first time in thousands of years of Chinese history grant freedom to its citizens.  Then, just when our hearts were filled with hope, the government sent tanks into the square to crush our dream.  The tanks rolled over the very bodies of our people, turning them to bloody pulp.  Those who were not killed by the tanks were thrown into prison; many were never heard from again.  My uncle was one of those.”

“But the government did not stop with those in the square.  Through torture, they learned the names of many sympathizers and arrested them too.  Thousands ended up in prisons, their families never learning what happened to them.  Their families were punished in other ways too.  Little happens in China without the acquiescence of the government.  Jobs, apartments, bus
i
ness licenses and on and on
,
can be withheld from those who are deemed unfriendly to the government.”

“Until two years ago, I was studying law.  I had hoped to somehow make a difference.  But my uncle’s family had no males, save for him.  Once he was gone, his wife and daughter were alone.  The government saw to it that life was especially hard for them.  For thousands of years, Captain, Chinese elders have been revered and have always known that when they could no longer care for themselves, their families would take them in and lovingly care for
them for the rest of their day
s.  My aunt is now old and in poor health.  My cousin has tried to care for both of them, but it was hard for her to do that by herself, even before her mother grew old.  So I became a taxi driver in order to help.  Along the way, I found another way to help not just my family but my country.  I joined the dissident movement and that, Ca
p
tain, is how you and I came to meet.”  

Thirty minutes later, they pulled into a small courtyard where the cab could not be seen from the road.  It was a fairly modern house, but in the old style, stucco walls, door and window openings lined with bricks, and a red tile
roof.  The door was opened before they had even reached it.  As Jun m
o
tioned him inside, Richard saw several people sitting around a table turn and look up at him.  Jun said something in Chinese and then introduced him in English.

“This is Captain Davis.”  Heads nodded, though not in unison and with uneven warmth, reflecting the reticence that some felt at this stranger in their midst. 

“Captain, this is Hong,” he said.  “Hong comes from a very large family, all of them farmers.  They raise vegetables and have for generations.”  Hong stood and leaned across the table, extending a callused hand.  He was tall
for a Chinese man
and powerfully built.  His eyes measured the captain carefully.  He for one had not been happy with the decision to help the Americans, knowing that America often leaves its friends as soon as they have what they want or when a new administration comes into power.

“This is
Da
,” he continued, pointing to the man nearest the captain. 
Da
, a short, wiry man with intelligent, spectacled eyes that seemed to probe the American, smiled.  “
Da
is what you Americans call an intellectual.  He has many degrees and treats his books like family.  He is our planner and strategist.” 
Da
stood and nodded his head in the Oriental way, as he took the American’s hand warmly in both his. 
Da
had voted emphatically in favor of helping the American because he had immediately perceived the advantages such a rescue could have for the cause.

“And this is
Wen
. 
Wen
is a student, majoring in law enforcement.”  The others laughed quietly at the statement.  “He is very good at convincing the police that he is on their side, so much so that we sometimes wonder about him.”  There was more laughter as
Wen
frowned, feigning insult at the statement his comrade had just made.  Then he smiled broadly as he came around the table to shake the captain’s hand.  A man of medium
build with large, round glasses,
his tousled hair looked as though it hadn’t seen a comb in a very long time. 

“This is Zhou, a man with whom you have something in common. 
Zhou comes from a family of sea
farers going back many generation
s
.  They have a fishing boat on the coast which at times comes in very handy.”

A tall, wary man stood, proffering his heavily callused hand reluctantly, measuring the captain, unsure of the decision the group had made. 

“And
Nuan
” a slender, attractive female emerged from the kitchen with a tray holding a tea pot and cups.  She nodded and smiled at the captain. 

T
he four seated at the round table moved closer together as Jun set a chair for the captain among them. 
Nuan
took a chair nearby.  As the captain moved to sit, he noticed an elderly man and woman sitting in an adjacent
room.  Anticipating his question, Jun said:

“They are
Nuan’s
parents, survivors of the Red Guard and the ‘Great Leap Forward’ in the 60’s and 70’s.  They endured tremendous hardship and unspeakable treatment during those dark days.  They support our movement to their cores.”  The old couple nodded their heads in greeting and smiled warmly.

“Captain, our comrade in Hong Kong has told us that you commanded a great warship that was sunk by terrorists who wanted to use a weapon that could have killed millions and that you prevented this disaster.”

“There were others without whom I would not have succeeded,” the captain answered.  “Two of them were United States Navy Seals, one who is now sitting in a Hong Kong jail.  He is the father of my granddaughter’s husband.  The other was able to escape back to America after we discovered the group in Hong Kong that is responsible for the abductions.  He is my son-in-law.”

“How is it that you were not arrested, Captain?” asked
Wen
, the man with the large round glasses and tousled hair. 

“When we came to Hong Kong looking for Ray and Holly, we traveled separately, stayed in separate hotels, and seldom gathered together, save on the Star Ferry.  Since our last names are different and we live in different towns, I suspect that the police computers never tied us together,” the captain answered. 

Zhou, the tall fisherman, said something in Chinese as
Wen
translated.

“How do you know that you weren’t connected to the others and then deliberately allowed to lead the police here?”

“I
don’t
know that,” the captain answered simply.

Again, the tall man said something in Chinese to the others.
Wen
translated.

“The ones in jail in Hong Kong, how did that happen?”

“We suspected they were using the junk cruises to stage the abductions.  Brett,
my son-in-law
’s father, who was one of the Navy Seals who assisted me in the incident you mentioned earlier, persuaded one of the crew from the junk to share with him what had happened.”

“Persuaded?” asked
Wen
incredulously.

“The seaman must have fallen or something because he had some broken bones.  After that, he was willing to speak to Brett.”

Wen
translated, which was followed by laughter from those around the table.

There
was silence for several moments.  F
inally Jun spoke:

“Captain, allow us to share our plan with you.  Then we would a
p
preciate your opinion.”

“There is a doctor in the hospital who detests what he has been forced to do.  He has joined us.  There is also an ambulance driver, in addition to a woman on the cleaning staff.  Finally, one of our comrades is with the Tianjin Police, an ally of
Wen
.  He will pose as the officer who has been charged with moving the patients.  He is also helping us to create a set of orders that will look official.  Everything depends on him, so we must act when he can be there.”

“Since people in China greatly fear the police, we do not anticipate that the release order will be challenged
.  But we will have two police T
asers that our friend will bring, just in case.  We plan to use them on anyone we e
n
counter at the loading dock, afterward tying them up and concealing them until we have left.  Our friend will also have his police firearm, which he will only use if there no other alternative.”