Danny Huang waited in line at the Washington-Dulles International Airport to officially enter onto American soil. Behind him three of his male colleagues, aged between nineteen and thirty-five, stood motionless, accustomed to the discipline of standing at attention for long periods.
Their visas indicated they were from the Beijing Armed Police Force; trainers and guests of the United States for three weeks to take part in a training course with the former G20 security command team and to complete the Diploma in Professional English offered by the International College of English in D.C. in preparation for the G20 to be staged in Beijing next year.
Danny Huang glanced at his passport and when the time came, stepped up to the yellow line and handed it over the counter to the ageing, overweight customs officer. He did not anticipate any trouble passing through customs; after all, he was a police officer and invited guest. The customs officer looked at the photo of police officer Ip Shi and back at Danny Huang. Stamping the book, he nodded for him to pass through.
Danny Huang suppressed a smile.
Not even my photo or my name. Yes, we all look alike to you westerners.
He waited as each of his colleagues were stamped and cleared.
Too easy. The hardest part of the operation is over, he mused.
On the way to their hotel, Danny Huang looked out the window at the city passing by him. His mission had been many years in the planning and now the time to act was drawing near. The excitement coursed through him. He was tired of the wait; like being a solider never sent to war. The world would be surprised, shocked and critical, but he would be proud.
He looked around at his team of three; each man trustworthy and hand-picked to get the American VIP out of the country. Danny squinted as he looked at Kiang Hai; he was the best at his game but the man had leadership aspirations. Better not try to flex his muscles on this mission. As he stared, Kiang Hai looked up and made eye contact. Danny nodded and looked away.
Fan Wen was different; a foot soldier … keen to please and impress, good at what he did and a very capable frogman. Give me two more of him and I’d be happy, Danny thought, watching the young man. Behind the driver sat young Pan Ru. Wet behind the ears but a whiz at communications, he could wiretap or shut down any technology known to man.
The bus pulled up. Alighting, the men nodded their thanks to the driver. An Asian representative from the university waited to greet them. Danny looked around at the campus where he and his colleagues would spend the next three weeks while undertaking their studies. A pleasant enough place, he thought. He turned his attention back to the university guide who was working with the bus driver to unload the luggage. Danny recognized his bag and grabbed it. Nodding their thanks again to the driver, Danny and his men followed the guide up the stairs of the university and through the entrance hall.
“Just for the record,” said Samantha, turning to Nick in the cab on the way to the airport, “I don’t sleep around … usually. What happened in London was just one of those things.”
Nick saw the taxi driver’s eyes flicker to Samantha in the mirror and momentarily back to him as if to say ‘bad luck, buddy’.
“That’s OK,” he assured her. “Just for the record, I’m not asking you to and I need this job, so I’d rather we stayed work friends.”
“I didn’t mean to imply that you wanted to sleep with me, I mean for all I know I might be nothing like your type, but I didn’t want you to think I … you know what I mean.” Samantha sat back in the seat.
Nick smiled at her. “I get it. How long is the flight?”
“Just under an hour. Do you think that’s long enough for them to serve lunch?”
“Nuh, a bag of nuts and a can of Coke if you’re lucky,” Nick opened his camera bag for the second time since they had departed from headquarters. He checked the equipment.
“Everything OK?” Samantha asked him.
“Fine.” He zipped the bag up and sat back.
“You know you do that a lot.” Samantha watched him.
“What?”
“Check and recheck gear. I saw you do it on the last assignment too.”
Nick shrugged. “Old habits.” He glanced impatiently at his watch.
“Rather be flying the plane than a passenger?” Samantha asked.
“Any day.”
The VIP looked out his office window to the manicured lawns outside. He wished it was over; the waiting and the tension from waiting was doing his head in.
He turned back to his desk, pulled a cigarette from a gold case in the top drawer, and retreated to the balcony before lighting it. He leaned on the balcony rails and thought about where his next office would be located. He had always had a thing for Asia: those beautiful Chinese princesses, the energy of the city, the untapped opportunities and all that cheap labor. He liked their work ethic, that the country, not the individual, came first. He couldn’t help but smile as he thought about a government with abundant labor at its disposal and a desire for the common good. He was going to lead an unimaginable life. And at last, he thought, my experience and skills will be appreciated.
He finished his cigarette, stubbed it out and reached into his pocket for a mint. Stepping back inside, he pulled a comb from his coat jacket and groomed his salt and pepper hair and moustache.
Not too much longer and the plan begins; the sooner, the better.