Huan Zhixin strode briskly through the corridors of the Great Hall of the People, making the transit from his office on the perimeter of the South Wing to its center, where President Xiang and the other Politburo members had their offices. The floor transitioned from terrazzo to marble, and he passed between fluted columns on each side of the hallway, marking the beginning of the Politburo’s official spaces.
Huan’s plan to gain membership to the elite ruling Politburo was proceeding flawlessly. The American Pacific Fleet had been destroyed and although Admiral Tsou was the plan’s mastermind, Huan, as head of the People’s Liberation Army, would receive much credit. When it came time to fill Bai Tao’s vacant seat, no other candidate could defeat him. However, the United States was up to something. It was important Xiang be briefed, so if things did not turn out well, Huan could somehow twist the situation around and make Xiang responsible.
Huan reached the president’s office, ignoring the two Cadre Department bodyguards stationed outside as he knocked. He heard Xiang’s voice through the door and entered, settling into a chair across from the president’s desk.
Xiang ignored Huan’s presence, continuing to review a document in a folder on his desk. Xiang’s failure to acknowledge him was deliberate, he thought, treating him like a second-class Party member. Huan began to fume at the blatant disrespect. As he waited, he savored his pending election to the Politburo. Then, with his uncle Shen’s support, it would be only a matter of time before he obtained the necessary votes to supplant Xiang as China’s supreme leader. Xiang would pay for his insolence.
Finally, Xiang signed the document and looked up. “You have news?”
Huan got straight to the issue. “The American SEAL Team has reached Beijing.”
“Where are they now?” Xiang asked.
“They’re at the CIA safe house.”
“Why are they here?”
“We don’t know yet. However, our informant has been directed to determine the objective of their mission. Then we will send in our special forces and eliminate them.”
“I thought you didn’t know the location of the safe house.”
“We do now,” Huan answered, then explained. “We thought O’Connor’s escape from the Great Hall was inconsequential, and not worthy of compromising our penetration of the CIA here in Beijing. We were not aware until later that a secure flash drive was missing, and that she might have it. The SEAL Team, however, poses a clear threat, and we have obtained the location of the safe house by paying our informant a very large sum.”
Huan waited for additional questions, and Xiang asked the most important one. “When will the SEAL Team be eliminated?”
“Today,” Huan answered, “after we determine the objective of their mission. Or nightfall, whichever comes first.”