A blue VW pulled up in front of the noodle and congee shop, and Jordan recognized the driver. It was the same man who had picked her up from the airport.
“Let’s go, Davis. Our ride is here.”
While he paid the check, Jordan stepped outside under the awning. The rain had backed off to a light drizzle, but the heat and humidity were relentless. After making a quick survey of the street, she hurried toward the car.
“Néih hóu,” she said.
“Long time no see, Special Agent Jordan,” he replied, holding open the door to the backseat. He jerked his head toward Davis, who was exiting the restaurant. “Who’s this guy? He wasn’t with you yesterday.”
“He’s a friend.”
Davis held out his hand. “Nye Davis.”
“Charlie, everybody calls me Charlie.” He shook Davis’s hand, waited until they were both inside, then climbed in behind the wheel, rain spatter glistening on his dark hair. “I don’t know what you did, Agent, but you did it good.”
“That seems to be my forte,” she said. “Is there a plan?”
“No good plan. We can’t go back to the consulate now, too many Chinese police outside. The PO says to lay low, and he’ll be in touch once he figures something out. We have a safe house north of town.” Charlie dropped the car into gear. “For now, I’ll take you there.”
A safe house. Another indication that the PO was CIA. A secure, secret residence wasn’t something the consulate would keep. And since Charlie knew about it, that made him either CIA or an asset.
“How did you make everyone so mad?”
The PO had told her to trust Charlie, but what if the PO couldn’t be trusted? There was still the question of who engineered the prisoner swap.
Not willing to tip her hand, she offered up only a piece of the puzzle. She told him she’d been on a quest to figure out what Zhen knew that had spooked McClasky, not that Zhen might still be alive.
“Plus, I found something at the crash site.” Jordan had said it casually, but it dropped like a bomb. Davis twisted in the seat beside her. Charlie stared back at her from his rearview mirror. Then she told them about the fragment.
“I knew it! I knew that plane was intentionally brought down,” Davis said.
“Except there’s no real proof. The crash is still under investigation, and the IIC is leaning toward ruling it an accident.”
“Is that what you think?” Charlie asked.
“No.” She thought the plane had been shot down.
“How much have you learned about the fragment?” Davis asked.
“Our forensic guy sent it out for testing.”
“Henry?”
Jordan eyed him suspiciously. “You know him?”
Davis raised his hands in the universal sign for surrender. “I talked to him. For the record, he refused to tell me anything.”
“Good man.” It made sense to Jordan that Davis would try, but she was glad to know Henry had shown discretion.
“So what did he find?” Charlie asked.
“It came back high for rare-earth metals.”
“Chinese metal,” Charlie said.
“You came to that conclusion fast,” Davis said.
“China manufactures ninety percent of the rare-earth metals. They use them in making all kinds of specialty items, cell phones, wind turbines. China is also one of the world’s leading steel exporters.”
“Could the plane have been made with Chinese steel?” Davis asked.
“Not according to Henry. He claims the plane manufacturer doesn’t use Chinese steel.”
“Then it came from whatever brought down the plane,” Davis said.
“That’s the theory. Henry was able to pinpoint the composite of the metal to a specific area north of here.” She explained to them about the content analysis and its connection to REE Manufacturing. “If they produced the steel, they should have records of where it was sold. If we can track the shipments, maybe we can figure out who used it to build a weapon.”
Both men remained quiet, and she waited for one of them to speak.
Charlie looked up at the mirror. “Did you ever think maybe they built it?”
“It makes sense,” Davis said. “The charge against Zhen is espionage, right? Maybe he hacked some weapons plan.”
“Great minds think alike,” she said. The right weapon schematics could be worth millions, but any buyer would want a prototype to ensure the plans worked. “The only caveat is it appears to be Russians who shot down the plane.”
Charlie whistled softly. “You’re talking about a weapons sale.”
Davis was nodding. “Zhen steals the plans, REE builds the weapon and then sells it to the Russians.”
“Are you thinking the sale was government sanctioned?” Charlie asked.
Jordan shook her head. According to her research, the rare-earth metals mining industry had started out state-owned. Then, with the onset of the market economy, some private entities had moved in. Then China tried driving up prices by limiting trade, and the Triad had waded in through the sludge of illegal mining operations. “More likely it was the Triad. Why else would they come after me?”
“In China, sometimes the two are intertwined,” Charlie said. As he gave them a crash course in the Chinese mining industry, an idea began forming in Jordan’s head.
“Hey, guys,” she broke in. “We have some time, don’t we?” Lory had given her forty-eight hours, though now with the change in current affairs, time had become a non sequitur.
Charlie narrowed his eyes in the mirror. “Why?”
“How about we make a trip to Shaoguan?”
“Why would we want to go there?”
“According to Henry, that’s where the metal in the fragment was mined, and there’s an REE Manufacturing plant located just south of the city. Either we use our time waiting around for the PO to call, or we use it figuring out what Zhen knew that got his plane blown out of the sky.”
“I vote we go to the Great Wall,” Charlie said. “It’s much better for tourists.”
“Are you saying we won’t blend in in Shaoguan?”
“You’ll stick out like a sore thumb.”
Jordan looked at Davis. “What do you say?”
“I’m in.”
Charlie looked between them in the mirror. “I say you’re crazy. But if you want to go to Shaoguan,” he shifted the car into overdrive, “fasten your seat belts. I’m taking you on the scenic route.”
While Davis snapped pictures out the windows, Jordan soaked in the landscape. At first there were skyscrapers shrouded in the polluted air of the city that soon gave way to suburbs. For a stretch, neat rows of blue and pink patio homes marched in lines up the rolling green hillsides, colliding with areas of incomplete construction until they eventually climbed into the mountains, leaving behind all traces of town.
Lulled by the slap of the tires on concrete, Jordan dozed in and out until she felt the car slow. Scooting up on the seat, she checked the clock on the dashboard. They’d been driving north for nearly two hours. Out the windows, small farms began dotting the landscape.
“Are we getting close?” she asked.
“To the mines.” Charlie slowed even more and pointed off to the right. “They come in these mountains before we get to the city. Maybe it’s time you make a plan. You can’t just walk in and ask to see their sales records.”
“He’s right,” Davis said, “but this is where what I do comes in handy.”
The three of them outlined a plan. Davis and Jordan would go in together while Charlie stayed with the car. Davis would introduce himself as a journalist doing a story on illegal mining in the area. How in addition to destroying the rivers and poisoning farmland, the illegal mines were cutting into the profits of legitimate companies like REE. Then he’d ask to speak to the man in charge.
“It would help if we knew something about him,” Jordan said.
“You want to use my laptop?” Charlie passed a laptop over the seatback. Davis snatched it out of his hands.
“Okay, I’ve got something,” Davis said after tapping a few keys. “His name is Ping Mu. In 1995, he graduated with a master’s degree in engineering, joined the Communist Party of China, and started working as an engineer at REE’s steel factory in Hainan. After eighteen years with the company, he was promoted to head of manufacturing at the Shaoguan plant. Five years later, he’s on the fast track to being one of REE’s next deputy general managers. Here’s a photo of the plant.”
Jordan moved close to see the screen. If you discounted the number of tattooed persons showing up in the aerial, Ping sounded like a standup guy. Suddenly aware she was leaning against his shoulder, Jordan pulled away. “So you’re playing you. Who am I supposed to be?”
“My assistant, of course.”
As the person who should be in charge, Jordan wasn’t keen on being relegated to minion status. “Let’s not forget who’s running this operation.”
“It gets us in the door,” Davis said.
“We’re here,” Charlie announced, pointing off to the right.
The mine at Fanshuikeng loomed before them, a blight on an otherwise tranquil landscape. Mine tailings scarred the top half of the mountain, while the REE Manufacturing plant squatted at its base, dwarfed by the scope of its digging operations.
“Good, just park in front,” she said. Charlie pulled through the gate, turned the car around, and backed into a parking space across from the main entrance.
“REE Manufacturing.” Charlie gestured to the sign in front. He waved a hand up and down, then across the letters. “Top-to-bottom, right-to-left reading. Do you want me to come in and translate for you?”
As an asset, it was probably better for him not to be seen with them.
“Thanks, but just stay with the car.”
“You’re the boss. But you should take these.” Charlie handed them each a phone. “For now they’re safe to use. I preprogrammed them with my number and the number of the other phone.”
Spotting a face in an upstairs window, Jordan tapped Davis on the shoulder. “That’s our cue. We don’t want to give them too much time to get suspicious.” Climbing out of the car, she patted the window frame. “Thanks, Charlie. Keep the engine running. We won’t be long.”
Davis joined her outside the car, and together they crossed the parking lot. With each step, Jordan took measure of the complex. The main building was a large, two-story warehouse that appeared to house the offices and serve as storage for finished product. In the near distance was a cluster of other buildings where she figured the actual production took place. Behind the heavy metal entry door, a staircase ended on a landing.
“Ladies first,” Davis said.
“You go,” she replied, making it clear who was in charge.
Climbing the staircase, she spotted a motion detector high on the wall and another security camera.
The heat and humidity seemed to weigh them both down. At the top of the stairs, Davis paused. “Here you should go first.”
“Fine.” Jordan opened the door marked “Office” and reveled in the blast of cold air that raised goose bumps on her arms. Standing in the doorway, she blinked and let her eyes adjust to the lighting. In front of her was a long, high counter separating the entry from the receptionist’s area. To her left, a bank of windows covered in blinds looked out toward the parking lot. To the right, another, taller bank of windows revealed a cavernous warehouse filled with pallets of steel product, the view reaching across the plant floor to what appeared to be a mirror-image office on the opposite side.
Jordan noted the two cameras mounted in the corners of the room and then stepped forward to the counter. A woman about her own age stood behind it watching a row of flat-screen monitors, each showing a different view of the property: the warehouse floor, the offices, the back door, and the parking lot.
“Néih hóu. Nī douh yáuh móuh yàhn sīk góng Yīngmán a?” Does someone here speak English? Jordan said, butchering the Cantonese.
“I can help you.”
Jordan smiled. “We’d like to speak to your employer. My boss is a journalist doing a story—”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Ping is out.”
Across the warehouse, a man stood at the window. Jordan figured the girl was lying. “Do you have any idea when he’ll be back?”
“No.”
She was either efficient or stonewalling.
So much for Davis’s plan.
“A man named Kia Zhen recommended we talk to him,” Jordan said. “Is he in by any chance?”
At Zhen’s name, the woman recoiled slightly. Jordan was sure she recognized it.
“We have no Zhen working here.” The woman shook her head, straight black bangs swishing across her brow. “I’m afraid I can be of no help.”
Davis looked unhappy, and Jordan considered her options. There was nothing to gain by being pushy and everything to gain by waiting to see what happened after they left.
“I guess we’ll have to come back, then.”
Davis pulled out a business card and handed it to the woman. “Please tell your boss I was here.”
The woman barely dipped her head.
Jordan made another visual sweep of the room, this time noting the location of the filing cabinets and additional exits.
Walking back to the car, Davis gripped her elbow and caught one of the bruises. Jordan winced.
“What the hell was that back there?” Davis asked. “That wasn’t part of the plan. The plan was to find a way in to talk to Ping, not make us both personae non gratae by bringing up Zhen.”
Jordan glanced back. The woman was back at the window pacing like a shark gliding back and forth watching the swimmers wading into the water.
“Your plan wasn’t working,” she said.
“You didn’t give it a chance.”
Charlie waited until they were back in the car and then asked, “Did you get what you wanted?”
“Not even close,” Davis said.
“That’s not true. The receptionist claimed the owner wasn’t in, but someone was watching from the office window across the way. And I’m sure she recognized Zhen’s name, though of course she denied it.”
“Where to now?” Charlie asked.
Jordan was curious to see if anything came out of stirring the pot. “Head toward Shaoguan but pull over at the first place you can park and not be seen.”
“A stakeout!” Charlie seemed almost exuberant. “Maybe now we’ll get a look at the bad guys.”
They didn’t have to wait long. The car engine was barely cool when two blue pickups full of men peeled out of the REE parking lot and headed north. Davis instantly identified the man sandwiched into the back of one of the trucks.
“Wait a minute. That’s Kia Zhen.” He looked accusingly at Jordan. “All this time you knew he was alive?”
“I can explain, but right now we need to follow those men.” She reached forward and grabbed Charlie’s shoulder. “Can you tail them and keep from being spotted?”
Charlie’s face hardened in the rearview mirror. “You understand these men are Triad. A dozen of them to three of us.”
“The PO told me you were the man for the job.”
“There’s a difference between driving dangerous and being dead,” Charlie said, starting the engine. “This is a very bad idea. The Triad will kill you if you mess with them.”
“It won’t be the first time they’ve tried,” Davis said.
Jordan shot him a glare. “You’re not helping.” She looked back at Charlie. “Just don’t get too close.”
Charlie switched his gaze from Jordan to Davis in the rearview mirror. “This is either one brave or one crazy girl you have.”
“Possibly both.”
“Just drive!”
The road wound up the mountain and joined with another one at the top of the hill. To the left was concrete, to the right dirt. Fresh tracks in the red clay soil combined with the rev of the pickups signaled which direction they’d gone.
Instead of peppering her with questions about Zhen, Davis slid forward to the edge of the seat and craned for a better look. Jordan was glad for the reprieve. She knew at some point she would be made to explain.
Charlie glanced up at the mirror. “This could be a trap.”
“It could.” Jordan rolled down her window and listened. “But I don’t think so. Both trucks are still moving. Turn right up here.”
Following the sound of the vehicles, they wound back along the damp clay road, becoming more and more isolated. Jordan began to question her logic in following when she heard one of the truck motors cut out.
“Pull over,” she said, gesturing to a small side road that angled off through the trees. “Cut the engine!”
Jordan jumped out before the car bucked to a stop and listened for the men’s voices. She could hear them talking, but it was impossible to tell how close they were. Shutting the car door with barely a click, she leaned in the window.
“You guys, stay here,” she whispered.
“And miss getting the action shots? No frickin’ way.” Davis picked up his camera and slid out of the car on the driver’s side.
“I’m going to climb the hill and find out what I can see from above,” she whispered. “I need you here, ready in case we need to make a run for it.”
“You’re not going up there alone.”
“Believe it or not, Davis, I can take care of myself.”
“It’s not up for debate.”
By his expression, she knew he would never be dissuaded. At least not in the amount of time they had. “Then stay close, keep low, and be quiet! Got it? And if we get jammed up, you do what I tell you.”
“Got it.”
Jordan turned to Charlie.
“I’ll wait with the car,” he said.
“We may need to make a quick getaway.”
“No sweat.” He must have seen concern on her face. “Don’t worry, Agent Jordan. I’ll be fine. I know kung fu.”
Jordan pulled out her phone and checked for his number. “Make sure your phone is on vibrate only. If we’re not back in fifteen minutes, get the hell out of here and call the PO.”
Charlie leaned across the front seat as they started away. “Break a leg.”